


What Happened in Westview

by RainyJane



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: F/M, I mean wish, WandaVision speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 55,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyJane/pseuds/RainyJane
Summary: I didn't mean to, but after watching the WandaVision trailer I had a new story idea.The quiet town of Westview disappears into a pocket dimension. Several different parties try to figure out how,  why, and what to do about it.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 63
Kudos: 113





	1. The Westview Event

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant—  
Success in Circuit lies  
Too bright for our infirm Delight  
The Truth’s superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased  
With explanations kind  
The Truth must dazzle gradually  
Or every man be blind—

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

With every passing minute, Sam became more suspicious that he wasn't really here to give S.H.I.E.L.D. a report on his search for a HYDRA-linked terrorist cell.

In fact, he was starting to doubt these people were even S.H.I.E.L.D.

The man with light hair and dark glasses sitting across the table from him didn't quite have the S.H.I.E.L.D. vibe. Neither did the dark-haired woman with clear glasses sitting in the corner holding a slim laptop in one hand while typing on it with the other.

They hadn't asked him to divest himself of his shield, or any other weapons he might be carrying. That was something.

"Mr. Wilson...Can I call you Mr. Wilson? Or do you prefer 'Captain America'?"

"Whichever you like, Mister..."

"Danbury. Agent Danbury. Captain America, I understand you and James Barnes have been traveling through North America and Europe on various assignments for the United States government for several months now."

"Yeah. Everyone knows that," Sam replied.

"True. There are several websites that report sightings and post photos and videos of so-called superheroes and other enhanced individuals, some of them specifically devoted to you."

Sam tapped the table, trying to look more impatient than nervous. "Can you get to your point?"

"Were you and Barnes in the town of Westview, Connecticut, on or around May 16th?" Agent Danbury asked.

Westview?

How the hell did they know about Westview?

"Doesn't sound familiar," Sam said. "We were in New York around then."

"Oh really?" Agent Danbury leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Barnes is being asked that same question in the next room over. Is he going to be giving the same answer?"

* * *

Bucky looked across the table at the slightly too chipper man in an off-the-rack business suit who had identified himself as Agent Woo.

"So are you saying you don't remember going to Westview, or you don't remember where you were on May 16th?"

"I don't remember," he repeated. They couldn't prove whether or not he remembered something, especially since his memory was notoriously shaky.

"You mean you don't remember what you meant when you said you don't remember? I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Barnes," he shook his head slightly, like he was disappointed with him, "but you gotta give me something better than that. This is kind of a big deal."

Part of him wanted to, wanted to demand to know what happened in Westview that would lead S.H.I.E.L.D.—or whoever these people really were—to bring Captain America and the Winter Soldier in for questioning under false pretenses. But he couldn't take the risk of revealing who they were there to see, _especially_ if something happened.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help you, but I don't remember a place called Westview. If you tell us what this is about, maybe we can look into it."

Agent Woo gave him a pouty frown and a shrug. "Can't. But if you change your mind and decide to work with us, give me a call." He handed him a business card.

Bucky stared at him for a moment. "I'm free to go?"

"Of course. You're not under arrest."

* * *

Bucky was waiting in the lobby for an elevator when Sam came in, having been rather abruptly dismissed from his interrogation.

"Hey."

"Hey," he replied.

They stood in silence for a minute, looking at the lit arrow above the elevator door.

"That was weird," Bucky said.

"Yeah. They were asking me about a place called Westview," Sam prevaricated. The lobby might be bugged.

"Me too," Bucky replied. "Ever heard of it?"

"No. You?"

"Not that I can remember. That's what I told them."

Sam nodded.

They would, of course, go check it out as soon as possible.

They waited in silence another ten seconds.

"I don't think the elevator's coming," Bucky said.

Sam was already clutching his shield, ready to fight their way out if they had to.

A door to the back room flew open, and the young dark-haired woman who hadn't said anything while he was being questioned rushed out, unarmed but waving her laptop like she might try to stab them with it.

"You _liars!_ We know you know something about Westview! Tell us!"

Agent Danbury and another man ran out behind her. "Doctor Lewis..." Danbury said warningly.

"No. My _friend_ is in there, and I'm going to find out what happened to her one way or another!"

"Darcy, we talked about this," the other man said.

"Yeah, we talked, Jimmy. I said we should just ask the Avengers for help, you shot me down."

"Hold up a minute," Sam said. "What happened to your friend?"

Danbury grimaced, but didn't try to stop her from answering.

"Over the past few months, my friend, Dr. Jane Foster..."

"Wait," Sam interrupted her. " _Thor's_ Jane?"

"No, her own Jane. But yeah, she used to date Thor. Anyway, a few months ago she was measuring background magnetic field patterns but they kept getting interrupted by distortions. She figured out they were coming from somewhere along the East Coast. She was measuring it from London and I was in New York, so she asked me to start measuring it too so we could compare notes. Then on June 30th, 7:48 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time, the distortion suddenly got a whole lot stronger. Like, at first it was barely, like, five Planck lengths, and then all of a sudden it's nudging measurements all over the world. Jane decided to go check it out. She triangulated the distortions to this town in Connecticut on July 6th, and that's the last I heard from her. You have to understand, what she was tracking shouldn't have been dangerous. Like, a threat to virtual particles maybe, but nothing that would affect anything on a macro scale. But about then, my measurements recorded another jump in the strength of the disruptions."

Agent Danbury cleared his throat. "The early morning of July 7th, there was a strong, localized, and completely inexplicable electrical storm over Westview. It lasted all day, then suddenly disappeared from doppler radar at 11:14 that night. Ever since then, no one has been able to contact anyone in the area. We lose signals from any drones we send in. One of our agents entered the perimeter to investigate and never came out. Satellite data and aerial surveillance are too distorted to make any sense of. That's what we know. So I'll ask you again: what were you doing in Westview back in May?"

Bucky subtly glanced at Sam, leaving the answer up to him.

"We just heard rumors a wanted criminal might have a hideout there," Sam said. "It didn't pan out."

"Told you they wouldn't help us," Agent Woo said. He took out his phone and walked out of the room.

"Come on, guys," Dr. Lewis pleaded. "Jane's trapped in there. Thor would want you to help us."

She was probably right, but they couldn't risk revealing the truth. Not until they knew more.

"You really expect us to believe the only two active Avengers visited a quiet, out-of-the-way town in western Connecticut, which subsequently became the epicenter of the strangest unexplained phenomenon since the Blip, and it's a coincidence?" Danbury asked.

"I'm saying we don't know what happened, or why it happened," Sam said. Which was true.

Agent Woo came back in and whispered something to Danbury, who frowned but nodded.

Danbury looked back at Sam and Bucky. "Fine. New plan. We're heading to the Westview Containment Temporary Command Center. You've been invited to accompany us. You in?"


	2. An Indecipherable Cause

VI

Icicles filled the long window  
With barbaric glass.  
The shadow of the blackbird  
Crossed it, to and fro.  
The mood  
Traced in the shadow  
An indecipherable cause.

~Wallace Stevens, from “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”

* * *

It was well after dark when the black SUV drove up to the temporary headquarters, just before a billboard saying "Welcome to Westview." Floodlights were set up around the perimeter, angled to make sure no one tried to sneak in.

Bucky and Sam stepped out of the vehicle and stared at the scene. Beyond the perimeter, instead of the lights of the town that would be expected, there was some ripple in the air, faintly glowing but not in any recognizable shape.

It was hard to imagine this place as the sunny, friendly town they'd visited just three months ago.

Dr. Lewis and the agents stepped out to have a quiet word with a couple of lab-coated scientists. It sounded like a "Any new developments?" "No" kind of exchange.

Agent Woo returned to them a moment later. "Captain America, you're going to want to follow me."

"What about Bucky?"

"Just you."

The two Avengers exchanged glances.

"Go. I'll keep an eye on things here," Bucky said, a slight wariness in his voice belying the confidence of his words.

Agent Woo led Sam to a darkened hanger near the outskirts of the eerie little temporary colony, gestured him in, but didn't follow. This particular building seemed to be deserted, and Sam was on high alert for an ambush.

"I can't say I blame you for not spilling what you know to Danbury. Trust is a rare commodity these days."

Sam turned. He couldn't make out his face in the dark, but Nick Fury's voice was unmistakable.

"I might've been more trusting if I knew you were calling the shots. Haven't seen you around for a while."

"I've been handling some things out of town. But this has priority. How did you find your way to Westview?"

Sam hesitated. It would probably be fine to tell Fury the truth. It might even a good idea. But it might not be. He knew Fury was capable of drastic things if he thought the safety of the world was at stake.

He got impatient with Sam's reticence. "Were you investigating a woman named Mary-Jo Altman?"

"Who?" Sam asked.

Fury stepped closer, his one good eye staring Sam down. "You weren't there about Altman?"

"No. Never heard the name."

"Good. Forget you heard it now. So who did Barton stash at the spare safehouse? He's the only living person on Earth besides me who knew about that safehouse. Come to think of it, Wanda Maximoff hasn't been on our radar for months. And that would explain why you agreed to come all the way out here no questions asked."

Sam knew better than to deny it now that Fury had guessed the truth. "Yeah. Clint moved Wanda into a safehouse he said not even S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about. He told me about it so I could go check on her. But in case you're wondering, Wanda's not behind this. She wouldn't do something like this even if she were capable of it."

"Really? I for one have a hard time believing a town where one of the most powerful people on Earth lives gets sucked up in some kind of dimensional vortex and it's a coincidence. Thanks for the info. You can stick around and help figure out how to stop this thing, or you can leave, but keep in mind, this is top secret. The last thing we want is for the world to find out a whole town was swallowed up, and we don't know why or whether it could happen to them."


	3. Deduction

They told me you had been to her,  
And mentioned me to him:  
She gave me a good character,  
But said I could not swim.

He sent them word I had not gone  
(We know it to be true):  
If she should push the matter on  
What would become of you?

I gave her one, they gave him two,  
You gave us three or more,  
They all returned from him to you,  
Though they were mine before.

If I or she should chance to be  
Involved in this affair,  
He trusts to you to set them free,  
Exactly as we were.

My notion was that you had been  
(Before she had this fit)  
An obstacle that came between  
Him, and ourselves, and it.

Don't let him know she liked them best,  
For this must ever be  
A secret, kept from all the rest,  
Between yourself and me.

~Lewis Carroll

* * *

After welcoming their visitors, Laura had taken the kids outside so Clint could talk to Sam and Bucky in private.

"Can you think of Wanda ever doing anything like this? Maybe back when she worked for Ultron?" Sam asked after telling Clint what they'd learned.

Clint shook his head. "Nothing even close to this. She got into people's heads, gave them visions. I don't think she could even do something this big."

"But she must have something to do with it," Bucky said thoughtfully. "Maybe—I don't know—she triggered something?"

"The person Fury mentioned, Mary-Jo Altman: I looked her up on the way here," Sam said. "She's a real estate agent who's been living in Westview for fifteen years, no criminal record, single mom, dog person judging by her social media posts. Nothing pops."

"Westview is a good place to hide out: quiet, not on the way to anywhere in particular, but close enough to New York City for a quick getaway if you need one. I wouldn't be surprised if she's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s version of witness protection. It would explain why Fury had a super-secret safehouse there," Clint mused. "But it sounds like Fury doesn't think she caused this."

"Which pretty much leaves Wanda," Bucky pointed out.

"How did she seem when you visited her?" Clint asked.

Sam answered. "She seemed to be doing okay. She said she was dealing. She started a garden, she'd been sewing traditional Sokovian patchwork doilies and selling them online..."

"She made us cookies," Bucky added. "They were really good."

"She always had old TV shows on in the background, but she seemed fine," Sam added.

Clint stood and started pacing. "After everything she's been through, don't you think it's pretty weird for her to be fine?"

"She's used to loss, I guess," Sam said.

"You don't get used to losing people. The losses just build on each other. You know why I sent her to the safehouse?"

"Why?"

"She was doing fine here. Staying with me and my family. I had the feeling she was forcing herself to be cheerful, putting on a brave face for me, Laura, and the kids. When I asked her if she wanted to talk, she told me Vision would want her to live her life and be happy. I liked having her around, and I was worried about her being on her own, but I figured she might need her own space to grieve, as well as time to grieve."

"Makes sense," Sam agreed. "But it has been over a year since...we were brought back. She seems to be adjusting."

Bucky was frowning deeply, his forehead creased in thought. "I don't know. I didn't think it was weird at the time, but... While I was visiting Wanda in Westview, I was...happy."

Clint raised his eyebrow. "That's weird?"

"Yes. With my past, I am...always plagued with guilt, doubts, memories. But when I was there, I wasn't. I was content. I never feel like that."

"Yeah. I know the feeling. It was like there was just this good mood there that was infectious," Sam agreed.

"And all her neighbors were really friendly. Everyone was just polite. I was wearing long sleeves and gloves in summer weather, and no one looked twice. It was like they didn't even notice."

"Did anything else happen while you were there?" Clint asked them solemnly.

"No. Not that I can think of." He glanced at Sam, who also shook his head.

"When I was helping her move in, back in January, it was about the same. She was upbeat, talking about how nice the house was. She watched those old sitcoms nonstop—that started while she was staying with me—but she seemed happy, and I was happy for her. I...didn't think about the things I've done. I didn't think about Nat. But something weird did happen. My last day there, I lost consciousness. I don't remember what happened. I was just shoveling snow off her sidewalk and I passed out. When I came to, Wanda was shaking me, worried sick. There was a weird pattern in the snow..." He said this slowly, that detail rising in his memory for the first time. "It was like there had been an explosion. Wanda wanted me to see a doctor, but I felt fine. I went to my doctor a couple of days later, but she couldn't find anything wrong with me. I've had concussions on the job, so I know there's damage to watch out for, but nothing like that has happened since."

"Did Wanda see anything that could have knocked you out?" Sam asked.

"She didn't mention anything."

Bucky tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What if..."

They stared at him.

"What if what?"

"What if Wanda's forcing herself to be happy so hard that her mind is broadcasting it? She's using her mental powers to control the mood of people around her?"

"Wanda wouldn't mind-control people," Sam said. "She wouldn't do that."

"I don't think she'd do in on _purpose_ ," Bucky said. "But how else can you explain what it was like to be with her?"

Sam didn't have an answer for that.

"It makes sense," Clint grudgingly agreed. "While she was staying here, everyone seemed a little more happy and well-behaved than usual. After she left, it went back to normal. I thought people were acting different because of the Blip, appreciating each other more and whatnot, but I guess not."

"But even if Wanda's using her mind powers to make everyone around her happy and nice, it doesn't begin to explain why Westview's disappeared off the face of the Earth," Sam pointed out.

"No. It doesn't."

* * *

Off in the woods, well out of sight and earshot of anyone else, Nick Fury looked into the sky, arms folded, tapping his foot impatiently.

Finally, a bright streak shaped like a human flew down and alighted in front of him.

"Took you long enough to get here."

"Been busy," Carol Danvers responded. "Besides, if I dropped everything and rushed back to Earth for something like this, it might raise suspicions."

"Any sign that the Skrulls or Kree know what happened?"

"Not that I've heard. No one should even know Mary-Jo's on Earth. And this isn't anything Kree or Skrull technology is capable of."

"Turns out, this might not have anything to do with them," Fury said. "Wanda Maximoff was staying in the safehouse I had in Westview."

"Maximoff? The one who almost crushed Thanos?"

"The same. She got her powers from an Infinity Stone, same as you. We still don't know what all she's capable of."

Carol looked off in the direction of the town. "Well, it's both relieving and concerning to think this has nothing to do with Mary-Jo and Teddy. But if we don't get them back, and the Skrull royalist faction found out, Earth is doomed."

"Then your job is making sure they don't find out. I'm counting on you to buy us enough time to get to the bottom of this."

She nodded. "Even if Maximoff caused this, it doesn't tell us how to undo it. Has..." A hint of emotion rippled her voice for the first time. "Has Rambeau come back?"

"No. No word from her since she went in a week ago."

Carol swallowed, and shook her head. "This is crazy. I was in Westview to visit Mary-Jo just last month, and I was struck by how peaceful and friendly the town was, and now this..."

"Hold up...what day were you in Westview?"

She thought a moment. "Let's see... It was Interstellar Intercalary Date 7179301 dash 488 Vector negative 54.1 degree Dimol Rhiv, so that would be...what...June 30th, I think. Why?"

"Doctor Lewis said the energy distortions she and Jane Foster were monitoring jumped in energy that evening. You remember anything happening while you were there?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I was walking down the street when there was an energy burst. I felt like it was centered on me. It knocked me off my feet."

"An energy burst? From what?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes things just explode. There were a few bystanders. They rushed over to see if I was okay. I was touched that they'd just witnessed something they couldn't explain but they only seemed to be concerned about whether I was hurt. But looking back on it, that was actually really weird. And...I kind of have the impression something was containing the explosion, and it wasn't me."

"Did you see anyone or anything else when the explosion happened?"

Carol shook her head. "No, I...I don't think so. I don't remember."


	4. The Insider

How did it get so late so soon?  
It's night before its afternoon.  
December is here before its June.  
My goodness how the time has flewn.  
How did it get so late so soon?

~Dr. Seuss

* * *

In an abandoned car just beyond the event horizon of weirdness that the town of Westview had become, Agnes opened her eyes. It was night. Just before dawn, actually, judging by the blue glow to the east. Which was weird.

She found her phone and sent a text to her boss.

_I'm out. I can officially report that this is crazy._

A response came a minute later.

_I want details in person. I'm in London._

Agnes stepped out of her car, looked around to assure herself there was absolutely no one around, and opened a swirling portal. She stepped through it to the London sanctum.

"What have you found?" Doctor Strange asked as he walked up to her, his cloak billowing behind him.

Agnes rubbed her forehead for a moment, wishing she had time to process this before giving a report. But time could be an issue. "A pocket dimension. I was able to find its source: Wanda Maximoff."

"Maximoff," Strange said. "That's unexpected. I didn't know she was powerful enough to create something like this. Did she recognize you?"

"No. To be fair, the only time she could have seen me was when we were all fighting Thanos, and she was pretty preoccupied at the time. But also, I think...she doesn't really understand what's going on. I've been able to get close to her and talk to her, and I really don't think she knows what she's doing."

Doctor Strange raised an eyebrow. "You're saying she somehow created a pocket dimension that enveloped an entire town on _accident_?"

"She didn't just create a pocket dimension; she's controlling it. And everyone in it. Everyone's...I don't want to say 'brainwashed', but it's like the laws of the universe she created make it physically impossible to have a bad thought. If you even try to think something worrying, or sad, or mean...it just kind of gets sucked away. Everyone's nice all the time. It is _weird_. And time isn't passing right in there. It's moving faster than regular time. According to my phone, I was there for nine hours, but in there it was weeks. Maybe years. It's literally hard to tell."

"Interesting. I'm guessing something happened that made her have a mental breakdown. It makes sense that after everything she's been through she'd want to create a world where nothing else terrible can happen. But to control a pocket universe, she would need to expend power constantly. It doesn't make sense that she's been able to keep it up this long. She can't be doing it alone."

"If she has a source of power she's drawing from, I haven't been able to find it. I've searched her house a couple of times when she and her husband were out."

"Her husband?"

"It seems in her private universe, she's created her very own Vision. They're always together and just mooning over each other." Agnes pretended to gag. "Neither of them seem to be able to remember what happened or how they got there. Everyone's like that. People remember having friends and family outside the town, but they're vague on how long its been since they've called or visited. But everyone thinks everything's just peachy. It's a complete nightmare."

"I wonder if someone's directing Wanda Maximoff, brainwashing her along with everyone else."

Agnes shook her head. "If that's the case, I didn't see any evidence of it. And I've watched her use her power to alter the world."

"Does she suspect you?"

"No," Agnes laughed lightly. "I don't think she's in a headspace to suspect anyone. I've always thought no one who acts relentlessly cheerful all the time can be completely sane."

"As soon as you're up to it, I need you back in there. Try to find whatever's powering the pocket dimension. It might not be in the house; it could be anywhere."

Agnes nodded unhappily. "You still working on that interdimensional thing?"

"Yes. It's more serious than I initially thought. If my suspicions are correct..." He shuddered. "Let's just say I hope I'm wrong."

"But the point is, you're busy, and I'm on my own in there."

"Basically, yes."


	5. Floating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place eight months before the Westview Event.

The Butterfly upon the Sky,  
That doesn’t know its Name  
And hasn’t any tax to pay  
And hasn’t any Home  
Is just as high as you and I,  
And higher, I believe,  
So soar away and never sigh  
And that’s the way to grieve—

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

November, 2023

It was a crisp fall day at the Barton's farm. The sky was bright blue between wispy clouds, the air just slightly chill, each drifting breeze sent orange leaves cascading to the ground.

Wanda was raking leaves in the yard. She could have used her power to create a whirlwind to suck up the fallen leaves and be done with the chore in a moment, but she didn't. She liked the physical work, the repetitive action. She liked to keep occupied.

Clint came up to her. "Looking good. Of course, Nate is going to want to jump in that leaf pile and scatter them over half the yard."

She smiled. "Then I'll rake it up again so he can jump in it again."

He nodded. "Wanda, I really appreciate how much you've been helping out around the farm."

"It's the least I can do. You've been so kind to me. And you know, if you ever want me to go, you can just say the word and I'll find somewhere else to stay."

"I know. You really can stop reminding me," he teasingly chided her. "But I've been thinking...I want to support you and help you any way I can. I think it might be time for you to see someone."

She resumed raking. "See someone? What do you mean?"

"It might help you to talk to a therapist. To talk about what happened."

"You think I need to talk to a shrink?" she asked, trying not to sound defensive, and failing.

"I think it might not be a bad idea. Everyone's been coming to terms with the Blip, with everything they lost and everything's that changed. You went through a lot, and you've lost a lot more than most people. No one would blame you. I could get you in to see my psychiatrist. She's really good, and really discreet."

"I don't want to talk to some stranger about my most personal memories."

"Sometimes it can be easier to talk to someone you're not close to," Clint said. "There are things I understand you might not want to talk to us about. Like...you never talk about Vision."

A chill seeped through her that had nothing to do with the autumn air.

Wanda couldn't bring herself to talk about Vision, or even think about him that deeply. In her life, she'd lost her parents, and she'd lost her brother, and those losses had almost destroyed her. If she let herself really feel the loss of Vision, she couldn't bear it. It would kill her. Her heart would just stop.

But she couldn't explain that to Clint without making him worry about her.

"I don't need to talk to someone about him," she said, letting a little bit of sadness into her voice. "Vision would want me to live my life, and be happy. So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to do that for him."

"A psychiatrist can help you do that, can help you come to terms with what you've lost and what you've suffered, and move on from it."

"Please, Clint," she said, "please don't make me talk to a shrink."

His expression softened. "I won't make you, but know that the option is there when you want it. And we're all here for you."

"Thank you."

Clint left, and Wanda continued raking the leaves, staving off the crushing sorrow that always lurked just within the shadows of her subconscious. She kept herself afloat on a sea of grief that she knew would crush her if she let herself sink into it.

She clung to her feeling of gratitude toward Clint and Laura for letting her stay with them, and immersed herself in the overwhelming beauty of the fall day.


	6. The Liaison

"A Forsaken Garden"

I enter the court  
Through the middle gate—  
And my sleeve is wet with tears.

The flowers still grow  
In the courtyard,  
Though two springs have fled  
Since last their master came.

The windows, porch, and bamboo screen  
Are just as they always were,  
But at the entrance to the house  
Someone is missing—  
You!

~Po Chü-i, trans. Henry Hart, from _The Hundred Names_

* * *

Bruce returned to his house late after attending a charity event. He put a kettle on to make tea and opened up the newspaper. Suddenly, a swirling circle of golden light appeared in the middle of his living room, and a man stepped through.

"Doctor Strange? What are you doing here? In my house?"

"I have Avenger business to discuss, and you're the only Avenger in my address book."

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but you could've called."

"Normally I would, unless I were worried about phone taps," Strange replied.

"Phone taps? What's going on?"

"Do you know about Westview?"

Bruce shook his head in confusion. "What's Westview?"

"Not what: where. Three weeks ago, the town of Westview, Connecticut, was cut off from the rest of the world. No transmissions can get out, and no one inside it has been able to leave. An offshoot of S.H.I.E.L.D. called S.W.O.R.D. is sequestering it, making sure no one accidentally stumbles in. I didn't know if they had been in touch with you."

"No. I'm not really in the loop these days. Do we know what caused it?"

"I don't know if S.W.O.R.D. does. I've been able to determine it's a pocket dimension, still connected to ours—for now—but experiencing different laws of physics. Doctor Banner, how much do you know about Wanda Maximoff?"

"Wanda? I don't know her well. She's been staying with Clint Barton since I undid the Snap, so..."

Strange shook his head. "She's in Westview."

It took Bruce a second to register that news. "She's trapped there?"

"My investigation indicates she's causing it. A sorcerer in my order has been able to astral project inside. It looks like Ms. Maximoff has possibly accidentally created her own personal universe. Can you get me in touch with Barton? I'd like more insight on Maximoff's state of mind, and he might not know what's going on."

"His farm's about a 45 minute drive from here. I can take you. I want answers too, and maybe I can help."

* * *

Laura Barton thought she'd known what she was getting herself into when she'd asked her boyfriend to marry her three years after they'd first met, when he'd helped save her and half a dozen other hostages from a bank robber with an experimental sonic weapon. She'd known being married to an operative for a top-secret organization would be challenging, that he would be away from home a lot, that she wouldn't be able to know where he was, or what he was doing. She'd known that every time he left for work, there was a chance he'd never return. She had assured him she accepted all of that as the price to be with him, and that she loved him enough to bear that cost.

She hadn't known that he would become best friends with a coworker who happened to be a former assassin—not to mention a suave, sophisticated, beautiful woman—and that had been hard to accept at first, but after the first few times Nat had saved Clint's life, Laura had warmed up to her, and eventually came to consider her one of her best friends as well. She hadn't known her husband would be mind-controlled by alien technology into teaming up with an evil Norse god, or that she would see him on the news saving the world from an alien invasion.

And she never would have imagined that, years after her husband's retirement, she would find a green giant and a man dressed like a medieval swashbuckler at her door late at night.

"Bruce! It's so good to see you! Who's your friend?"

"Hi, Laura. This is Doctor Stephen Strange. He helped us beat Thanos. Doctor Strange, this is Clint's wife, Laura."

"Pleased to meet you," he said.

"You too. You're the wizard, right?"

"I am _a_ wizard."

She thought about thanking him for helping to save the universe, but couldn't think of any words to adequately express her gratitude. "Please come in."

Given the late hour, she doubted this was a social call. Besides, Clint and Bruce had been a little awkward around each other for the past year. Clint believed that Bruce secretly blamed him for losing Nat. Laura thought it likely that Bruce worried about the same blame from Clint.

"Is your husband around? We need to talk with him," Doctor Strange said.

"Yeah. He's just getting ready for bed. He'll be down in a minute. Can I get you anything? Tea? Cocoa?"

"No, thank you."

Clint came in just a moment later. He looked at their guests for a long moment. "Good to see you, Bruce. And...Doctor Strange, was it?"

"Mr. Barton, I'm sorry to drop by so late, but there's something we need to talk about urgently. And privately."

"What is it? My house isn't bugged and my kids are already in bed, so this is a secure place to talk."

Doctor Strange cleared his throat and glanced at Laura.

"Oh, anything you can say in front of me you can say in front of her," Clint said.

"I'm going to go make some tea," Laura excused herself. "Decaf green tea okay with everyone?"

Everyone nodded or murmured acceptance, and she went to the adjoining kitchen, where she busied herself with boiling water and selecting mugs, but still listened to the conversation.

"Mr. Barton, do you know what happened to Wanda Maximoff?" Strange asked.

Clint hesitated for a moment. "She moved out a few months ago. I know where she is. How much do you know?"

"Quite possibly more than you. The town of Westview has been enveloped in a pocket dimension." He paused. "You don't look surprised."

"You knew?" Bruce asked.

"Sam and Bucky told me about it a couple of days ago. Fury has a barrier set up around the town, they have scientists studying it. It's been suggested that Wanda's causing it, but I can't imagine how. Bruce, I know Wanda's not your favorite person, but she's a good kid. A good kid who's been through a whole hell of a lot. If she's doing it, she doesn't mean to."

"That's my source's assessment," Strange stated. "It seems that Wanda Maximoff is causing it, controlling the world for her own purposes, but we don't know _how._ No matter how powerful she is, control on this scale doesn't seem possible. What's your opinion of her psychological state?"

It took a moment for Clint to answer. "She's been through a lot. She was coping, but...not great."

"According to my source, she seems to be influencing the minds of the people around her. They're unable to mentally register that anything is wrong. She's also created the Vision."

"She brought Vision back to life?" Clint asked in confusion.

"No. I don't know of any power in existence that could bring someone back from the dead. She's formed a simulacrum of Vision, one that looks and acts conscious. She probably thinks it _is_ Vision. And, apparently, they're married."

 _Poor girl,_ Laura thought.

"Married?" Clint sputtered.

"Also, time in the pocket universe isn't in sync with ours. In our universe it's only been three weeks, but inside it's been at least several months."

Laura poured hot water over tea bags in four mugs and carried them into the living room. Everyone had gone quiet, deep in thought.

"Can you get her out of the pocket universe?" Clint asked Doctor Strange. "If I could talk to her..."

"I haven't found a way to do that," he replied. "I could convey a message to her, but I doubt anything would get through to her in her psychological state."

"Good point," Bruce said. "If she doesn't know what she's doing or how, it's not very helpful to tell her to stop."

Clint sipped his tea thoughtfully. "How could you communicate with her?"

"I have someone who's able to astral project inside the pocket dimension. She's been observing Wanda, trying to figure out how to safely stop her."

Laura spoke up. "Have you been coordinating with Fury?"

Doctor Strange shook his head. "My order needs to maintain a high level of...anonymity vis-à-vis other organizations tasked with protecting the world. I think HYDRA's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. provides the best illustration of why."

"So you haven't shared what it's like on the inside with them?" She glanced at Clint. "Didn't Sam and Bucky say they didn't even know if anyone in Westview was still alive?"

"Yeah."

"It seems like sharing intel is the best way to figure out what to do about this," Laura pointed out.

"But I can see why the wizards don't want S.H.I.E.L.D. to know they're involved," Bruce said. He tapped his cheek, thinking. "I'll go to Westview. I'll think of some excuse for how I found out about it, offer my scientific expertise. That way I can tell you what they figure out and you can tell me what you figure out."

"That could work," Doctor Strange agreed. "I won't be able to check in often. I have other matters to attend to. But I will set up some way for my associate to communicate her findings to you."

Having come to that decision, Doctor Strange bid them goodnight, thanked Laura for the tea, and left through a glowing magical portal he opened in the air.

"I'll get going too," Bruce said. "Sorry to keep you so late."

Laura stood quickly. "Why don't you stay the night? We still have the spare bedroom, and I don't want you driving home this late." And if he stayed to talk to Clint at breakfast, it might help repair their friendship. They'd saved the world together; to Laura's mind that should create a lifelong bond, no matter what else happened.

"I don't know. I'd hate to impose more than I already have..." He glanced at Clint.

"You're not imposing: I'm insisting. The bed's made, there's fresh toiletries in the cabinet of the guest bathroom. It's been too long since we've had you over."

"And it's after midnight," Clint added. "We should all be getting to sleep."

* * *

Bruce thought about the first time he'd stayed in the Bartons' guest bedroom. He'd taken a shower, used up the hot water, and Nat said she should have joined him.

It was in this room when Nat had offered him a choice, a choice that had scared him so much Hulk had left the planet.

Being in this room, faced with that memory, he suddenly missed Nat so much it hurt.

It had been hard to see what the Snap did to her, how what she saw as her failure to stop Thanos had cut her so deeply she threw herself into the work of saving everyone else she could, drowning her personal life in that pursuit, while following rumors of her unreachable best friend doing the opposite.

The Avengers had saved the world several times now, and one way or another, it had torn each of their lives apart.

It wasn't fair. They should have been rewarded for putting their lives on the line to save the world, not punished for it. Nat deserved to see the universe put right again. She deserved to survive to get better, to know happiness.

Maybe Wanda also saw the unfairness of it all. Maybe she was trying in her own way to make it right. To make _something_ right.

S.W.O.R.D. might try to lock her up and study her, if they were able to stop her. She didn't deserve to be punished once again for a misguided attempt to make the world better. If he could, he would protect her. He hadn't been able to save Nat, but maybe he could save Wanda.


	7. Wondering

Factory windows are always broken.  
Somebody’s always throwing bricks,  
Somebody’s always throwing cinders,  
Playing ugly Yahoo tricks.

Factory windows are always broken.  
Other windows are let alone.  
No one throws through the chapel-window  
The bitter, snarling, derisive stone.

Factory windows are always broken.  
Something or other is going wrong.  
Something is rotten—I think, in Denmark.  
End of the factory-window song.

~Vachel Lindsay, “Factory Windows Are Always Broken”

* * *

Bruce found the road blocked by a pair of silver SUVs about a mile away from the town. He glanced at the apparatus in his passenger seat, a pair of electromagnetic field detectors attached to a screen with a moving zigzag line resembling a seismograph.

A man with black hair and a face that managed to be both solemn and impertinent knocked on his window.

Bruce rolled it down.

"Can I see your license please, sir?"

Bruce could only stare at him for a moment. He was impressed that he could ask that with a straight face.

"Seriously?"

"Yes sir."

Bruce took his driver's license out of his wallet and handed it to the man, who looked at it with no change of expression.

"Where are you headed today, Mr. Banner?" he asked, handing the license back.

"Um, it's Doctor Banner, or just Bruce. I've been tracking some glitches in the magnetic field. They seem to be coming from this direction. I'm trying to figure out what's causing them."

"The road's blocked up ahead. I suggest you find an alternate route, Doctor Banner."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, sir."

"I'm really sorry to ask this, but...you know who I am, right? You look like a smart guy. With normal eyesight. What's your name? You don't look like a cop. You S.H.I.E.L.D.? F.B.I.?"

"I'm Agent Woo, and yes."

"Right. Agent Woo, I'm not going to say I'm a big deal, but..." He gestured to himself. "I'm kind of a big deal, and I'm going to follow this signal whether you let me through willingly or not, so I suggest you get on your phone and tell whoever's in charge that Bruce Banner wants in."

Agent Woo frowned at him, then glanced at the device in the passenger seat. "You a physicist, Dr. Banner?"

"A few of my PhDs are in physics, yeah."

A deliberative expression played across Woo's face. "I'll tell my boss you're here. But for the record, I've dealt with bigger deals than you." He walked away from the car and made a phone call, returning a minute later. "He wants to talk to you."

Bruce drove through the checkpoint, and over the hill he saw a cluster of temporary buildings.

Fury was waiting for him by the roadside.

"I thought you'd show up, Banner. Did Sam Wilson tell you?"

"No. I picked up some electromagnetic resonances that were messing up an experiment I was conducting. I couldn't figure out what was causing them. I tracked them here. What's going on?"

"We're still trying to figure that out. Since you're here, want to help out?"

"Just like old times," Bruce said with just a trace of irony.

"Just like old times," Fury agreed.

He nodded. "What do we know so far?"

* * *

If there had been any new developments in S.W.O.R.D.'s investigation of the Westview Event, they hadn't shared it with the two Avengers begrudgingly allowed to monitor the situation.

Bucky and Sam knew that Fury had told the scientists Wanda might be causing the phenomenon. They'd interrogated Sam for hours about what he knew of Wanda's powers.

They were taking a coffee break in their field tent, looking out through the plastic window at the weird ripples in the air that marked the city limits of Westview.

"You're being even quieter than usual," Sam noted. "Is it making you nervous being around secret organization types?"

Bucky shrugged. "It's not really that. I'm just trying to sort out my thoughts, I guess."

"Want to talk it out?"

Bucky flashed him a smile, appreciating the consideration. Despite their rocky start, the two former enemies had gradually become friends over the course of the past year. "You know how it feels to be brainwashed?"

"Not personally."

"It's really nothing more than that you stop asking questions. You stop wondering. You're given an order, and you don't even think about not following it. You just don't realize that's an option. What HYDRA did to me...it shut down the part of my brain that could wonder whether I was doing the right thing. In the army I knew guys who took pride in following orders without question. They called it patriotism, but it was really a kind of brainwashing. The more you can ask questions, the more you know you're not brainwashed. So I asked myself if what Wanda is doing is bad or good."

Sam frowned. "If we're right that Wanda's behind this, she cut a whole town off from the rest of the world. She's altering people's minds. How can that be good?"

"She's making the people around her feel happy. Making them be kind. True, she's doing it by altering their minds, but everything is mind-altering: good food, sunshine, friendship. Whether it's a bad thing is a question worth asking. I liked how I felt when we were visiting her. But I thought about it and decided stopping her, if we can, is the right thing to do."

"What led you to that conclusion?" Sam asked curiously.

"Feelings like sadness, boredom, and anger are good in the right doses. They let you know you need to change something, to try something different. If you have no choice but to feel happy, you'll never realize it if something needs to change. Have you ever had a thought pop into your head that you don't want to think? Like if you're on a tall building and you suddenly start to wonder what if you just jumped off for no reason? Or throw your phone off the edge or something?"

"Yeah. That's called intrusive thoughts. Most people have them. What does it have to do with brainwashing?"

"I think maybe that's your brain reminding you that you always have choices. Even if those choices are terrible, they're always there. The call of the void is a sign that your mind is free. When you choose not to do that dumb thing your brain just thought of, you're exercising that freedom. And sometimes—maybe almost never, but once in a while—that freedom of thought might lead you to realize something you need to do that you never would have thought of otherwise. I bet no one's having thoughts like that in Westview right now."

Sam stared out toward where the town should be. "I bet you're right."

Bucky poured himself more coffee.

Their pensive silence was broken by a familiar but unexpected voice outside their door. "Knock knock."

Bucky frowned in confusion. "Is that...?"

Sam opened the door, revealing a jolly green giant on the other side.

"Banner! I didn't know you were still working for Fury."

"I wasn't until a few minutes ago." He ducked inside. His head almost reached the top of the tent. "I was surprised to hear you guys were here, but I guess I shouldn't be. I know that you and Wanda were close, Sam. Do you think Fury's right that she could be causing this?"

"All we know is Wanda _was_ here. We don't know if she was still here when the Westview Event happened, but we have no reason to believe she wasn't," Sam answered.

"Before this happened, we visited her..." Bucky mentioned. He glanced at Sam to make sure it was alright to continue. "We haven't told anyone else this, but we think she might have been...this is going to sound crazy. She might have been using some kind of mind control to make people around her happy and friendly."

Bruce raised an enormous eyebrow. "Really?"

"We don't think she meant to be doing it," Sam quickly added. "We don't think she even knew what she was doing."

Bruce nodded. "Well, she's...she's powerful."

"But I've never seen her do anything even remotely like _this_ ," Sam added, gesturing to the wall of energy visible out the window.

Bruce looked out at it and nodded to himself. "You're worried about her."

"Yeah, I am. I'm worried about everyone else in Westview, too. Wanda would never purposely hurt innocent people..." At Bruce's incredulous look, he added, "...anymore. But after everything that's happened, everything she's been through..."

"Who knows what she might do without meaning to," Bruce finished for him.


	8. The Nothing That Is

One must have a mind of winter  
To regard the frost and the boughs  
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time  
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,  
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think  
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,  
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land  
Full of the same wind  
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,  
And, nothing himself, beholds  
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

~Wallace Stevens, "The Snow Man"

* * *

Bruce walked into the lab, following the sound of vigorous swearing.

A woman with her back to him smacked a distressingly delicate-looking piece of equipment. "Stupid machine!"

"That interferometric particle spectrographer steal your quarter or something?" Bruce joked.

The woman spun toward him. She was younger than he'd guessed, with dark hair, dark glasses, and a small, pale, chiseled face. She gaped at him for several seconds.

"Do I have something in my teeth?" he joked.

"No. Sorry. It's just...You're Bruce Banner. I'm a huge, huge fan. I must've read your paper on passive gamma ray radiography a hundred times before I got it."

"Thanks?"

"That came out wrong. I mean it was just so well written that I read it even when the math was way over my head. I'm Darcy. Doctor Darcy Lewis." She stuck out her hand. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Thor's told me a lot about you." He gingerly shook her small hand with his enormous green hand. "We'll be working together. Can I help you with anything? I could take a look at this gadget." He gestured at the particle spectographer she'd just been chewing out.

"I don't know what's wrong with it. I've cleaned the lenses, reset the angle, and adjusted the aperture widths to everything I can think of, and it's still just giving me jibberish." She lightly hit a stack of printed readings.

He looked over the readings, hoping he might find something that would indicate what was wrong with the machine.

"I'm not usually like this," Darcy said. "It's just that Jane's been missing inside that thing for weeks, and I have no idea what happened to her. I don't know if she's even still alive."

Bruce wished he could tell her what he'd learned from Doctor Strange: that everyone in Westview was alive and, to all appearances, well. But he'd promised to keep Strange's involvement a secret. "I'm sure she's okay," he said in a reassuring tone with absolutely nothing to follow it up with.

She was right about the particle readings: they seemed simultaneously incomprehensible and physically impossible. Something about them bugged him. They reminded him of something, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

"I want her to be okay, so bad," Darcy said. "You know, before I met her, I was majoring in political science. Then we found Thor and...the world's just been crazy ever since."

"Did you really tase Thor the first time you met him?"

"He was being weird," she replied defensively.

"Sometimes things are exactly what they first appear..." He paused and looked at the particle readings again. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"What if the spectographer's not malfunctioning. What if all these readings are true?"

"That's impossible."

"I have seen a lot of things I thought were impossible in my life. I mean, I _am_ one. But if these are right, what does it look like? What does it remind you of?"

"Vacuum soup."

"Exactly. Virtual particle froth, but a few dozen orders of magnitude stronger."

Darcy shook her head. "If that were right, the air would be exploding, and we'd all be dead."

"Unless the antimatter were being siphoned off somehow."

Darcy shrugged. "Okay. If those two completely impossible things were true, that would explain what we're seeing."

"It would explain more than that. If it's true, and we figure out what's doing it, that could solve one of the biggest mysteries in the universe."

"You mean asymmetry?"

"Exactly. Why there's something instead of nothing."

"But it's impossible," Darcy repeated. "You can't make something out of nothing."

Bruce had, he realized. Pretty recently. He'd brought half of all living things back into the universe, undoing Thanos's Snap. But he didn't bring that up.

"You detected a sudden jump in electromagnetic distortions on June 30th and July 6th, right?"

"Yeah. But this," she gestured to the mass of energy they were studying, "didn't start until the night of July 7th, about 22 hours after the second spike."

"When did Dr. Foster first start measuring that distortion?"

"Back in March. Why?"

Bruce frowned. "I was hoping to look at readings going back to January. I suspect there was a jump then too."

"Well, a jump in unexplained electromagnetic distortions might've had a measurable effect on ionosphere observatories. I can make a phone call."

"Yeah. Do that."

She took out her cellphone and scrolled through her very long contacts list, then put her phone to her ear. "Hey, Doctor Korpela. How are you? It's about seven p.m., why? ...Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up? Sorry. Hey, can you look up some data for me? ...Could you see if there were any unexplained discrepancies in electromagnetic frequency resonances of the ionosphere back in January? ...Sure, I can wait." She glanced up at Bruce. "I'm on hold. This will take a few minutes."

"I'm going to make a phone call."

He stepped out of the lab and dialed Clint, who answered quickly.

_"Any news, Banner?"_

"Maybe. We're getting some really weird readings from the phenomenon we're trying to figure out. Hey, you know how you said you passed out when you were in Westview, and it looked like there might've been some kind of explosion?"

_"Yeah."_

"Do you remember what day that was?"

_"Uh...let's see. It was January 22nd."_

"What time was it?"

" _Late afternoon. Four o'clock-ish_."

"Thanks. We're checking to see if there were any weird readings around then."

_"Let me know what you find."_

Bruce returned to the lab. Darcy was off the phone.

"Does around 4 p.m. January 22nd ring a bell?" Bruce asked.

She dropped open a notepad, in which she'd scrawled, "22 Jan 20:38:19 UTC."

"That would've been 3:38 in the afternoon in the Eastern Time Zone," she said. "How did you know that?"

"Two people reported unexplained explosions in Westview, one on June 30th and one in January. I'm betting there was another one on July 6th."

"Think they were caused by antimatter?" Darcy asked.

"It's possible. If they were, it's a miracle no one was killed."

Darcy turned toward the window, toward where the town of Westview should have been, her expression bleak. "That we know of."


	9. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback

Her mind lives in a quiet room,  
A narrow room, and tall,  
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom  
And mottoes on the wall.

There all the things are waxen neat  
And set in decorous lines;  
And there are posies, round and sweet,  
And little, straightened vines.

Her mind lives tidily, apart  
From cold and noise and pain,  
And bolts the door against her heart,  
Out wailing in the rain.

~Dorothy Parker, "Interior"

* * *

July 6th  
1 day before Westview Event

* * *

Something was coming. Wanda felt it deep. Her power swirled restlessly inside her.

Just like before.

She tried to ignore it, tried to tell herself everything was fine. She had the television on. This was one of her favorite episodes.

But it kept getting stronger. She could feel the energy building, feel it approach a breaking point.

She felt the focal point moving. She worried it would get stronger if she approached it, but if there was another explosion, she had to try to stop it.

And so she ventured out into the night.

Around the block, she saw a woman out walking, frequently glancing at her phone screen like she was looking for an address or something.

Wanda trailed behind her for a few minutes. The woman was heading toward Old Mill Park.

The sense of cosmic instability grew, an impending catastrophe.

Wanda speed walked to catch up. "Nice night for a walk," she called.

The woman turned, looking startled. "Yeah, it is."

"I haven't seen you around. Are you new?" Wanda asked.

"I'm just visiting." The woman glanced at the device in her hand. From up close, Wanda saw it wasn't a cellphone, it had a long antenna and a dark green screen with moving zigzag lines.

"What's that?" Wanda asked, trying to sound conversationally curious.

"It detects quantum ripples. I'm a physicist. Doctor Foster."

"Doctor Foster..." The name sounded familiar, but it took her a moment to remember some of the other Avengers talking about an astrophysicist by that name. "Jane Foster?"

"That's me," she confirmed.

"You were Thor's girlfriend."

"Yep, that's my claim to fame," she said tightly.

"I've heard you're a really good astrophysicist," Wanda assured her.

"Thanks."

"I'm...Virginia." She'd almost told her real name, but worried it might make Jane more likely to recognize her, so she gave the pseudonym she'd come up with for her Etsy shop: Virginia Scarlet.

"Nice to meet you."

"You too. So what brings you to Westview, Doctor Foster?"

"There are some quantum anomalies in the area. Don't worry; it's nothing dangerous."

She had no idea how much danger she was in, Wanda realized. But she didn't know how to warn her, how to explain what she felt in her bones: that the universe was tilting out of balance, more and more with each minute.

And this time it wasn't because of her. Not directly.

"Will it still be there in the morning? It's almost midnight. Do you have a place to stay?"

Dr. Foster yawned, as if the mention of the time made her realize she was tired. "Yeah. I've got a bed in my van."

"Where is your van?"

"I parked it on Marigold Lane."

"Great," Wanda smiled. That was in the opposite direction from the park. "I'll walk you there."

"Thanks. I'm honestly a little turned around."

"No problem. It's not far." Wanda pointed the direction and they started walking. "If you don't mind my asking, why did you and Thor break up?"

"The long-distance thing was just too hard to keep up."

"I can't imagine." It seemed like an appropriate thing to say. She didn't let her mind dwell on her own experience.

"How long have you lived in Westview?" Dr. Foster inquired.

"A few months. About half a year. I'm pretty new here."

"You like it?"

"Yeah. It's nice. Really friendly."

"I've noticed that. It's got a good vibe." Dr. Foster suddenly stopped in her tracks, staring at her detector. She shifted it back and forth, then looked up, frowning at Wanda.

It was too late.

"Come on. We've got to get away from houses." Wanda grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a deserted intersection.

"What's going on?"

Even as she spoke, a red glow began materializing around her.

The instability was increasing exponentially.

"Get down!" Wanda summoned her power, forming a barrier around the gathering break in the universe, pulling it away from the other woman.

"Oh my God."

"Run!" Wanda ordered. It was coming. There was no way to stop it. All she could do was try to contain it, to keep it from hurting anyone. She formed a double sphere around the focal point, one to slow the blast and one to create a vacuum to muffle it. She braced her power against an explosive force, absorbing the energy that could have obliterated a city block.

Dr. Foster hadn't run. She'd drawn back, taking partial cover behind a lamp post, but still recording the occurence with her detector.

Wanda had contained the explosion, and local space had returned to a dynamic equilibrium, but with a new anchor point. Even contained within her energy, Wanda could feel it, absorbing her power, feeding on and mingling with it. She knew what it was. She didn't know which one it was, but she knew it was ineffably dangerous, too dangerous for anyone to know of its existence.

Summoning a renewed reserve of power, she forced it into the ground, pushed it down deep, burying it in bedrock far beneath the town. Hiding it, like the others.

"You're Wanda Maximoff, aren't you?" Dr. Foster asked.

Wanda couldn't answer. She had used every last ounce of her energy. She fell to her knees, then slumped to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Foster ran to her.

Wanda nodded, gasping for breath.

She didn't know what to do about Dr. Foster. Clint had fainted, that woman downtown whose face had seemed so familiar hadn't clearly seen what happened, and hadn't recognized Wanda. But Dr. Foster had.

She fought off a wave of panic and forced herself to calm down.

It would be nice if she could just forget.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," Wanda managed to say. "I'm fine. It's going to be fine."

"What happened?"

Wanda pulled herself up unsteadily. "What does your machine say?"

She looked down at the screen. "It's broken."

"What do you remember seeing?" Wanda asked.

"An explosion. There was some kind of explosion. Did you cause that?"

"I don't think so. Not really."

Wanda was relieved that Dr. Foster didn't seem to have a clue what it really was.

"Will you be okay?"

Wanda nodded. "I'm pretty tired. But my house is just a couple of blocks from here."

"My van's closer. I'll give you a lift. You sure you'll be okay?"

Wanda smiled reassuringly. "I always am."

By the time Dr. Foster dropped her off, she seemed to not remember what had happened. That was for the best, Wanda told herself, suppressing a twinge of regret that she wouldn't have someone to share the burden of knowledge with, someone to help her decide what to do.

It was better to forget. She wished she could forget it, herself.

As she made herself some peppermint tea and got ready for bed, it began to rain. Which was strange; it had been clear enough to see stars just a few minutes ago.


	10. Clove the Ether

He opened his way in space and clove the ether like lightning  
Up to heaven, under the earth, looking everywhere.  
Above, he searched the Green Void, below, the Yellow Spring;  
But he failed, in either place, to find the one he looked for.

  
~Po Chü-i, from "Song of Unending Sorrow"

* * *

Bruce had locked the door of the lab Fury had his people set up for him. He'd specifically requested no listening devices or monitoring devices of any kind, as any electromagnetic field had to be accounted for in his calculations. He'd sent a 360° photo of the room to Doctor Strange, per his instructions, but hadn't received a visit yet.

It came in the evening. He was sitting back reading some of Jane Foster's papers, trying to guess what her hypothesis about the phenomenon she was chasing might have been, when he got a text from an unknown number asking if he was alone in his lab. He replied in the affirmative.

A glowing portal opened up right in front of him. It wasn't Doctor Strange who stepped out of it, but a young woman with frizzy brown hair.

"Hey," he greeted her nonchalantly.

"Doctor Banner. Strange told you I'd be coming, right?"

"He told me it would be more efficient to deal directly with the sorceress he put in charge of the Westview investigation. I take it that's you?"

"Yep. You can call me Agnes."

"Is that your name?" he asked.

"It's close enough."

"You've been in Westview?"

"Yeah. I've been astral projecting inside since about a week after it started."

"Strange said time isn't moving the same in there. How long has it been inside?"

"Years. Not sure how many years. Calendars don't work there. They look normal when you look at them, but as soon as you look away you can't remember the year. No one ages, and no one's died that I've heard of the whole time I've been there."

"That's...good, I guess. Weird, but good."

"It's something," Agnes agreed.

"No offense to you, but why isn't Strange dealing with this himself?"

"He's got a lot on his plate." Agnes stood up and walked aimlessly around the room for a minute. "What's happening in Westview is weird, but from what we've seen so far it doesn't seem to be dangerous. I'm only telling you this because you saved half the universe literally single-handedly, so I kind of feel like we can trust you. There's an interdimensional being called Dormammu. A few years ago, he tried to take over Earth. Strange managed to stop him using the Time Stone, but there are some indications he's planning to try again. Strange is trying to find a way to stop him if he does."

"Okay. That's a good excuse." He got back on topic. "Do you have a plan of action for Westview?"

"Right now, I'm kind of hoping Wanda will eventually get bored of the world she's created and I can talk her into putting things back to normal. I've been working on befriending her. I'm pretty sure she considers me a friend, anyway. Or at least a nosy but sympathetic neighbor."

"Has she told you about her past?"

"I don't think she remembers her past. No one does. Not clearly. No one remembers the Blip. They talk about the Chitauri invasion of New York like it was a radio show."

"Well, if you're going to try to convince her to go back to her real life, you should know what you're asking her to go back to. She grew up in Sokovia, a dirt-poor, corrupt, and unstable former Soviet country in eastern Europe. She and her twin brother survived their apartment being bombed when she was ten. Their parents didn't. She grew up on the streets. She volunteered to be experimented on by HYDRA, which is how she got her powers. She went to work for Ultron, during which time she fought the Avengers. She got into our heads, giving us horrible, intense hallucinations. Then she found out Ultron wasn't just planning to take over the world, he was planning to destroy it, so she turned on him. Ultron killed her brother. She joined the Avengers, using her powers to help the world, but the world turned against her when a bunch of people died from a bomb she moved to save Steve Rogers. She spent two years as a fugitive after being locked up for refusing to sign the Sokovia Accords. And then Thanos murdered her boyfriend in front of her, then turned her to dust along with half of the universe."

Agnes waited for him to finish. "I get it. For her, reality is a hard sell."

"Yeah."

"It makes sense that her perfect world looks like an old sitcom. I used to think it was just easier to convince people what's happening is normal if the internet doesn't exist and no one wants to fork over the money to make a long-distance call, but I can see how a simpler time before alien attacks and robotic flight suits would appeal to her." She paused a moment, idly toying with a knob from a radiation detector Bruce hadn't gotten around to assembling yet. "I knew most of that already. I remember hearing about the Lagos bombing on the news. They talked about Wanda like she was some kind of monster just because she tried to stop it and failed. But you wouldn't guess she had anything like that in her past from the way she is now. She's so relentlessly cheerful. I feel sorry for her."

"You feel sorry for her for being cheerful?"

"Yeah, I do. Can you imagine never letting yourself say something angry, or sarcastic? But mostly I feel sorry for how crazy in love she is with her husband. She doesn't realize the real Vision is dead and the one she has now is basically a figment of her imagination. It's going to be hard to break it to her."

"I can't even imagine," Bruce said. "Does he disappear when she's not around?"

"No, he's still there. I've talked to him alone. He'd pass a Turing test. I've helped him plan a surprise party for her. It was weird."

He tried to imagine what it would be like, talking to someone knowing they were a philosophical zombie. He remembered the night he and Tony had brought Vision to life, a patchwork of materials and intelligences like Frankenstein's monster, not knowing if it would work, or what they would unleash if it did work. And then there he was, talking in the voice of Tony's A.I., saying he didn't know whether he was a monster, but able to lift Thor's hammer.

Would he be able to tell the difference between that Vision and one Wanda had created?

"Have you found anything else about how Wanda created the pocket dimension?"

Agnes shook her head. "Nope. It's hard to get answers without Wanda getting suspicious. Have you been able to figure anything out from the outside?"

"Not really 'figure out', but Doctor Lewis and I are working on a hypothesis. Have there been any giant explosions in Westview by any chance?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Not that I've noticed."

"Yeah, I figured you would've mentioned something like that. Energy readings from Westview look like the creation of virtual particles, which are always popping up in the vacuum of space in matter/antimatter pairs, but most of the antimatter is missing."

"So what does antimatter look like?"

"Just like regular matter, but more...explody."

"'Explody'?"

"When it comes in contact with regular matter, they annihilate each other, turning into pure energy."

"Dang. So if it were there, I'd know it."

"You'd know it for a split second," he replied.

"I get the picture."

"But if you can create matter/antimatter pairs and then somehow get rid of the antimatter, you've just created something from nothing." 

"Interesting. But the part about getting rid of the antimatter has me worried."

"Well, you're a sorceress, right? Where does the energy you use to make magic come from?"

"Other dimensions," she answered. "Or magical objects, or our own essence, depending on the spell."

"The antimatter could be going to another dimension."

Agnes nodded. "That would make sense. And that's something I could find, if I can catch Wanda creating something."

"Another thing: have you seen either of these people in Westview?" He showed her two photographs.

"Yeah. I've met Jane Foster a few times. I don't know the other woman's name, but I've seen her around."

"Monica Rambeau. She's an agent of S.W.O.R.D. who went into the Westview event horizon a few weeks ago. You can confirm she's alive?"

"Yeah, she's alive."

"Good. That's good." Bruce frowned; he didn't know how to tell Fury that piece of good news without revealing his source.

"I'll text you before I drop by again. That should be in a couple of days." Before she left, she added, "I wanted to thank you. I know you don't want people to know what you did, but the Sorcerers know. I lost my whole family to the Blip. That's why I found my way to magic, out of a hope beyond hope that something could be done to reverse it. I never harbored any illusion that I could do anything to fix it, but I wanted to know if _someone_ could. And you did. So...thank you."

Bruce dropped his eyes, uncomfortable with the praise. The way he saw it, he'd done what anyone would do in his shoes. "You don't need to thank me. I lost people I cared about to the Blip too."

She nodded. "Okay. Thanks retracted then."

He laughed. So did she.

After Agnes left, Bruce checked the time. It was getting late. There were some things left to do to set up his lab, but he wanted to give himself time to think about what he'd just learned while it was still fresh in his mind.

He'd done plenty of thinking about the physics of the Snap, about how Thanos could make so much mass just cease to exist, and how he had reversed it. How did Wanda feel, creating a little world for herself, using some kind of unexplained power to craft something out of nothing? He tried to remember how he'd felt, bringing back the lost with a snap of his fingers, wishing them back into existence and knowing—somehow _knowing_ through the power he could feel coursing through him and the rest of the universe—that it would work, feeling for a moment every star, every hydrogen atom, and every spark of life in existence, but searching for one specific spark of life and not finding it, trying to pull forth one more form from the formless, but failing.

Natasha…

How had Wanda felt when she thought she could recreate Vision? Was it remotely possible she'd somehow really brought Vision back?

Bruce had no idea, but he secretly hoped so.


	11. Hypotheticals

The Moon upon her fluent Route  
Defiant of a Road—  
The Star’s Etruscan Argument  
Substantiate a God—

If Aims impel these Astral Ones  
The ones allowed to know  
Know that which makes them as forgot  
As Dawn forgets them — now —

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

Sometimes the equations on the chalkboard started to look like stars, planets, supernovas, and nebulas. Usually she took this as a sign that it was time to take a break, but sometimes she kept working, and it would feel like she was making a sketch of the universe in numbers, Greek letters, and mathematical functions.

She paused, chalk trailing at the end of a λ, and saw the colors of starlight, planets, moons, comets, and mysteries shining out from between the white lines.

"Professor, how many points would you dock from my paper if I got it to you a day late? I have work tonight."

The spell was broken, and she turned around to see Monica at the door she hadn't heard opening. She flashed a friendly smile. "Oh, I think we can let it go one time, as long as we keep it our little secret." Monica was one of her best students, and had never turned in a paper late before.

"Thank you, Professor." She looked visibly relieved, but then she caught sight of the chalkboard and her eyes widened. "Um...is this for Tuesday?"

Jane chuckled. "No. This isn't for a class. It's just my own project I've been working on."

"Oh. What is it?"

"Nothing that interesting. I'm working out the mathematical behavior of hypothetical points in spacetime."

"Are you going to get it published in a science journal?" Monica inquired.

"No reputable journal would publish it," she laughed. "It's really just...astrophysics fantasy, layers and layers of hypotheticals."

"'Astrophysics fantasy'? That sounds so fascinating. Now you have to tell me what it means."

"Do you have a few minutes?"

"Yeah. I don't have any more classes today, and my work doesn't start for an hour and a half."

"Okay. Would you like like a cookie?" She lifted a plate of chocolate chip cookies from her desk and offered it to Monica, who picked one with polite thanks and nibbled at it as she listened to Jane's explanation. "To start with, general relativity suggests that if a star were extremely massive, it would become increasingly dense under the force of its own gravity until not even light could escape its gravitational pull."

"Really? That's crazy."

"It is pretty wild. There's no evidence that they really exists. But, of course, if one did exist, we wouldn't be able to see it. General relativity has proven that gravity distorts spacetime, the very fabric of the universe." Jane took a stack of loose pages from one of her desk drawers to show Monica the equations she'd come up with over her years of working on this thought experiment. "Imagine how much one of these collapsed stars could bend spacetime. The center of this gravity well is a singularity—a point at which some of the values in general relativity become infinite, and you simply can't understand it through math anymore, at least any math we have yet. Anyway, I started wondering to myself, if the singularity were somehow destroyed—which, even if a singularity did exist, would be impossible—but if it _were_ , what might happen to the space around it? That's what I love about math. Math doesn't care if the questions you ask it are impossible, ridiculous, or even incomprehensible: plug in the question and math will give you an answer."

"So what would happen to the space around it if the singularity were destroyed?" Monica asked between bites of cookie.

"Basically, there would be ripples, which would cause some localized irregularities in the laws of physics. But then..." She pulled out another sheet of paper with more complex equations, "...I started playing around with what would happen if there were two or more, shall we say, ghost singularities within each other's sphere of influence—the ripply spacetime left behind. That's when the math really gets wild."

"What happens?"

"Well, lots of weirdness, but the weirdest thing is there's a statistical chance the singularities pop back into existence. They might be in a different position, but when a new singularity pops up, it has the same values as one of the original singularities. It's like it wants to exist. The more of the ghost singularities you get in proximity, the more unstable it gets."

"Wow. So that's what all this is?" Monica gestured to the chalkboard.

"Not quite. You know how I said math doesn't care if the questions you give it are impossible? My latest...game...is asking if there can be singularities of forces besides gravity. What happens if you have a singularity of time? A singularity of distance? A singularity of energy? It's...it's really fun."

"It sounds like it. I think this is the most passionate I've ever heard you be about anything."

Jane smiled at her chalkboard. "Theoretical physics...I can't really explain it. When I'm working on theoretical physics, my mind feels like it's truly free."

"That's so inspiring."

Jane turned toward her with a shrug. "Would you like another cookie?"

"Sure. These are delicious."

"Professor Shade's wife made them."

"The English professor? I don't think I've ever met his wife."

"You should. She's a lovely woman."

"I'll see if I can get myself invited to their house, if all her baking's this good," Monica joked. She headed toward the door. "See you tomorrow, Professor Foster."


	12. Pledged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback

Deep rolls the thunder  
Beneath the southern hills.  
Why is it, why must you be always away,  
Never managing to be at home and rest.  
O my true lord,  
Come back to me, come back.

~ Anonymous, from _The Book of Songs_ 19, trans. Arthur Waley

* * *

July 7, 10:50 p.m.

24 minutes before the Westview Event

* * *

The rain had been constant since last night. Lightning flashed in the windows about every minute or two. The electricity had been out since early afternoon.

That was the hardest part for Wanda: she didn't mind the gloomy skies, the rain, or the thunder, but without power she couldn't watch her old TV shows, or listen to music. Without voices to fill her house, she felt oppressively alone.

Her mood had been sliding all day. It was harder and harder to keep out the sorrow, the memories, the self-pity.

She'd kept herself busy working while she had enough daylight to see. There was a sewing machine in the house, but she rarely used it, instead using her power to levitate and arrange scraps of cloth, and float a threaded needle to sew them together. She did it to practice control of her power, and she imagined she was putting a little bit of magic in everything she made.

But after dark, she'd had nothing.

She couldn't fall asleep without music or shows to listen to, to distract her mind. Her memories, her sorrows, grew around her like strangling vines.

She missed the Avengers, she missed her parents, she missed Pietro, and most of all she missed Vision.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Vision had only had three short years of full life on Earth, that his life had been cut so tragically short, with such a horrible death.

She missed him so much.

The rain seemed to fall harder and harder the sadder she felt. She lay in bed listening to it, trying to let the patter of rain and rumble of thunder sooth her to sleep.

That's when she felt the universe begin to tilt again. She felt it in the core of her power, felt the things she'd hidden deep in the ground pulse to wakefulness.

She sat up in bed.

"No. I'm not ready."

It had been less than 24 hours since she had exhausted her power containing the explosion brought on by Jane Foster's presence. She wasn't going to be strong enough to contain another one.

But she had to try. Even if it killed her, she had to try.

She closed her eyes, took some deep breaths, and tried to calm down and focus. Where was the focal point? She couldn't discern its direction.

Until she realized it was inside her.

She ran outside into the rain, barefoot and dressed only in her pajamas. She ran down the road toward a cluster of vacant lots, getting as far away from inhabited houses as she could, getting away from the one she'd buried under her own yard to delay the explosion.

She activated her power, isolating the point where the fabric of the universe was beginning to crack. It pulsed against her sphere of energy, surging in strength in response to her.

She wasn't strong enough.

Rain poured down her face and hair, soaking her pajamas. Lightning crashed, for a moment blotting out the scene in a burst of brightness.

Wanda shook, straining to shield the world from what was coming. Once the Infinity Stone emerged into existence, local space would stabilize again.

She could feel the others, buried deep underground, could feel their power, bright points shining in the dark. Without quite knowing how, she drew on their power. A swirl of orange light joined the red glow of her own power, then a blue light, then a deeper red. Swirling together, they expanded and elongated, turning a brilliant yellow.

Her eyes closed involuntarily against the brightness, but she could still sense the shape of it. She felt like the energies knew what they were doing, like they knew what shape they wanted to take.

A burst of greater brightness flashed against her closed eyelids. A blast wall knocked her off her feet, flinging her back into the trees.

She opened her eyes slowly, and even more slowly her eyes readjusted to the low light, reassuring her that she had not gone blind. She crawled away from the tree line and struggled to her feet, feeling bruises and scratches all over, not being able to tell if she was bleeding due to the rain still washing over her.

Where was it? She had to find it, had to hide it.

It should have been _right there._

A bolt of crackling lightning revealed her surroundings, and she screamed. There was a dark human form lying face down on the roadside.

But she had been alone. She was sure she'd been alone. Had a neighbor looked out their window in the middle of the night, seen her wielding her power, and come out to see what was happening?

Rallying her courage, she stooped down to the human shape she could just barely make out in the dark, and reached for his shoulder to turn him over.

But he was too heavy to move. His shoulder was hard as rock.

Abruptly, in response to her touch, he sprang up. Startled, she screamed again.

And then she froze.

Her thoughts stopped. Her heart seemed to stop mid thump.

Impossible...

Drops of rain glittered as they fell through the light shining in his forehead. His eyes, wide and wild, fixed on hers.

"Wa...Wanda?"

She swallowed. "Vision?"

"Where am I? What happened?"

"I don't know. How are you here?"

"I don't know."

It was impossible. Wasn't it?

It couldn't be real. This had to be some kind of bizarre dream. Vision was dead. She'd had plenty of dreams of him being back, this had to be just another dream.

But it felt so real. The rain pelting her face, the gravel under her knees, the way her lungs just couldn't seem to accept air...it all felt so real.

Vision seemed real. She could read him, his mind reverberating with fear and confusion.

She touched his cheek. He was solid.

He covered her hand with his and leaned into her touch. She felt the roiling emotions in his mind smooth out.

"Thanos?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"He's dead. Thanos is dead. You're safe."

He made no reply. He closed his eyes and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get out of the rain."

Even though she was banged up and fatigued from expending her power, she supported him as they walked the short distance to her house. In her living room, she draped a blanket around his shoulders, forgetting that she herself was rain-drenched and chilled to the bone. She couldn't take her eyes off Vision's face.

She no longer doubted he was real. She wouldn't let herself doubt. But she was still afraid to look away.

He stared back at her. "Is this...?" He trailed off, and instead he asked, "How long has it been?"

She took his face in her hands, running her fingers over the contours of vibranium. "It doesn't matter. You're here now."

He nodded slowly.

She kissed him once to calm him. She kissed him again to calm herself. She kissed him a third time just to kiss him. Then she embraced him, cradling his head to her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her.

He was here now. Vision was safe, and she would do everything in her considerable power to keep him that way.

She wouldn't let anyone or anything ever hurt him again.


	13. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback

There has fallen a splendid tear  
From the passion-flower at the gate.  
She is coming, my dove, my dear;  
She is coming, my life, my fate;  
The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"  
And the white rose weeps, "She is late,"  
The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"  
And the lily whispers, "I wait."

She is coming, my own, my sweet,  
Were it ever so airy a tread,  
My heart would hear her and beat,  
Were it earth in an earthy bed;  
My dust would hear her and beat,  
Had I lain for a century dead;  
Would start and tremble under her feet,  
And blossom in purple and red.

~Alfred, Lord Tennyson, from "Maud"

* * *

July 7, 11:05 p.m.

9 minutes before Westview Event

* * *

He couldn't follow, couldn't render coherent the sequence of events that brought him here.

There had been flashes, sensations, undoings...

He was dead.

Wasn't he?

Thanos had come. They couldn't stop him.

He hadn't been reconciled to the thought of his death so much as that he'd accepted it would happen whether he was psychologically prepared for it or not, and he didn't have time to waste readying himself for it. He'd convinced Wanda to accept that she had to destroy the Mind Stone for the sake of the universe.

The memories of what happened were muddled, a haze of pain, fear, sharp regret, flashes of images.

Thanos approaching.

Wanda's face contorted with grief...

But here he was: to the best of his reasoning, dead, but still in existence, as evidenced by his ability to think.

Was he still on the battlefield? Had he somehow survived Thanos taking the Mind Stone?

There was solid ground beneath him: rocks and dirt and grass. Rain. He could feel and hear rain. A loud peal of thunder. A scream.

Wanda's scream...

Wanda's scream the moment she destroyed the Mind Stone was all he could hear, all he could think or feel.

Someone touched his shoulder, trying to roll him over.

He sat up and heard another scream, a scream that echoed inside him.

It was dark. Night, pouring rain, no street lights, almost pitch black.

The light of the Mind Stone revealed a face in the rain, a beautiful, familiar face, staring and pale like she'd seen a ghost.

"Wa...Wanda?"

It took her a moment to find her voice. "Vision?"

"Where am I? What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know. How are you here?"

"I don't know," he answered, more confused than ever.

How was Wanda there? She'd destroyed the Mind Stone as Thanos advanced, a sequence of events that had seemed to point to her imminent death almost as inevitably as his. But she was alive. The way she stared at him convinced him that she had no more of an idea what was happening than he did.

She reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, as if making sure he was really there. He covered her hand with his, needing the physical connection.

She was there. She was real.

But how?

"Thanos?" he asked, not sure how to form the question more coherently than that.

"He's dead. Thanos is dead. You're safe."

Relief flooded through him at that news, closely followed by guilt for feeling relief at the news of anyone's death.

He was safe. He and Wanda were safe. He clung to that thought.

"Come on. Let's get out of the rain," she said.

She seemed to know where she was going. He let her guide him along a dark road into a dark house. She didn't turn on the lights, but wrapped a blanket around him and sat him on a sofa, then stood in front of him, looking dazed.

How was he alive? He couldn't answer that question. He'd died. He was almost sure of that.

He had considered heaven, hell, ghosts, reincarnation, and other iterations of afterlife beliefs, but mostly from the perspective of human psychology, as a way humans dealt with their own mortality, their hopes and fears. He had wondered, if there were an afterlife, whether he as a synthetic being would qualify for it.

"Is this...?" He was going to say 'heaven', but realized he would probably not have awoken so frightened and nearly frantic in heaven. It wouldn't be so dark, and Wanda wouldn't be soaked and trembling. It couldn't possibly be hell, because Wanda was there. Were they ghosts? In some kind of afterlife humans had not been able to conceive of? If that were the case, he had no reason to expect Wanda had any better idea what was going on than he did.

So he asked a different question. "How long has it been?"

She stroked his face, gazing at him in adoration. Her beautiful features softly illuminated by the light of the Mind Stone.

"It doesn't matter. You're here now." She leaned down and kissed him. They were not kisses of passion, but compassion, reassuring rather than arousing. Then she wrapped him in her arms, holding him.

His arms circled around her, feeling the contours of her back under her wet clothes. He felt a sense of peace and security wash over him, a sense that everything would be alright, everything would work out.

At the same moment, the rain stopped, and he heard some electrical appliances buzz to life in the next room. He opened his eyes and saw a street light illuminating the windows.

They just held each other for a long time. Wanda fell asleep in his arms.


	14. Home

Su Chan i, "Welcome Home!"

How swift was your departure,  
How slow your coming home!  
Let's drink deeply of the good warm wine,  
And drown the years between!

~from _The Hundred Names_ , trans. Henry H. Hart

* * *

Westview Event, Day 1

* * *

With daybreak brightening the windows, Vision slowly and carefully lay the sleeping Wanda on the couch, covering her with the blanket she'd given him last night.

He looked around the house. No one else seemed to be there.

The house was tidy and comfortably furnished, not quite small enough to be called 'cozy'. The books on the bookshelves were mostly worn paperback novels from a variety of genres. There was a TV on a cabinet, a sewing machine on a table.

Something didn't seem right. Something seemed...off. It was as if something were missing, or incongruous, but he couldn't think of what.

The sense of unease passed as quickly and inexplicably as it came.

In the kitchen he found several cookbooks and a well-stocked pantry. He looked up a few different recipes before deciding to make fried eggs, which soon accidentally became scrambled eggs. As they cooked, he put some bread in the toaster and prepared coffee. He dished it all up and set it at the dining room table.

Wanda appeared at the door as if on cue.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

"Good morning." She smiled sleepily at him. "When I woke up, I thought I must have dreamed you, and then I smelled breakfast."

He didn't know how to respond to that, so only said, "I hope you slept well." He kissed the top of her head, but hesitated, noticing something.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You cut your hair."

"You don't like it?"

"I do like it," he assured her. It was cut about shoulder length, giving it a fullness and bounce he'd never seen in her hair before. But the implication of the haircut, like the house, was troubling. "Has it been a long time?"

"It's been...a while. Why?"

"I don't wish to presume... I wouldn't want to make things complicated for you if...if you've found someone else while I've been gone."

She gave him such a perplexed frown that for a moment he thought he hadn't made himself understood, but then she shook her head and smiled. "It has not been _nearly_ that long." She took his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. "There is no one else. No one but you."

"Okay," he breathed in relief. He gave into his urge to kiss her lips. She moaned deep in her throat, which compelled him to kiss her more deeply. She moved closer to him.

He reluctantly broke the kiss. His lips ached at the sudden deprivation, and he soothed them by placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You should eat before your breakfast goes cold," he said.

She laughed softly, sounding out of breath. "You're always trying to take care of me."

"I always will."

She sat down at the table. "I am going to eat because this smells delicious, but then I'm going to welcome you home properly."

"'Home'?"

"That's where we are, if you want it to be. You asked me to stay with you once. Now I'm asking you: stay with me, Vision. No one will find us here. We can live a normal, ordinary life. Together."

It was what he wanted most, what he'd never been offered. An ordinary life—a home—with Wanda.

"Of course."

She smiled, and turned her attention to her eggs and toast. "This is delicious, by the way," she said.

He stood beside her and ran his fingers through her soft hair, blissfully content.

It was strange, he thought: for a few minutes, he'd completely forgotten about Thanos, and about the fact he was supposed to be dead. It had somehow completely slipped his mind.


	15. The Dance Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback. Keep in mind, time inside Westview is not currently in sync with time outside. Outside Westview, it has been about a week since the Westview Event began. Inside, it's been a few months.

I

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea  
In a beautiful pea green boat,  
They took some honey, and plenty of money,  
Wrapped up in a five pound note.  
The Owl looked up to the stars above,  
And sang to a small guitar,  
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,  
What a beautiful Pussy you are,  
You are,  
You are!  
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

II

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!  
How charmingly sweet you sing!  
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:  
But what shall we do for a ring?'  
They sailed away, for a year and a day,  
To the land where the Bong-tree grows  
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood  
With a ring at the end of his nose,  
His nose,  
His nose,  
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III

'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling  
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'  
So they took it away, and were married next day  
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.  
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,  
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;  
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,  
They danced by the light of the moon,  
The moon,  
The moon,  
They danced by the light of the moon.

~Edward Lear, "The Owl and the Pussy-cat"

* * *

Wanda got home from running some errands to find Vision sitting in the living room reading the newspaper. Her heart swelled with love, as it always did at the sight of him.

He rose to kiss her. "Welcome home. How was your day?"

"It was really good. I stopped in at Tara's shop, and she said those embroidered throw pillows I've been making are selling really well. She asked me if I could make some more next week."

"That is wonderful, Wanda."

"It is. And I stopped by the college to say hello to Jane. She asked me to pass her greetings to you. We should have her over for dinner some time," she said from the kitchen as she put away some grocery items.

"Yes. That would be pleasant."

Wanda returned to the living room. "Are you okay? You seem distracted."

"I've been...thinking."

"Well, you're always thinking," she said teasingly.

He averted his eyes. "Yes."

She took a step closer to him. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know." He took a deep breath, then dropped to one knee in front of her. "I wanted to do this properly, but I don't know how. I don't have a ring, but I didn't want to get one without first discussing it with you. I need you to know I would never set conditions on our bond, either express or implied, and your preference will in no way alter my feelings for you. I realize a matrimonial connection with me will confer no concrete benefits to you. All I can offer you...is that I can't imagine ever loving anyone as much as I love you. You do not need to answer. I just want you to know that if you want to, I am willing. I am offering. If you would like to marry me, I would like to marry you."

Wanda had been struck silent with surprise for a moment. She'd remained silent because she found Vision's flustered, rambling proposal absolutely charming and didn't want to interrupt him. She had thought about this, had wanted to marry him since he came back into her life, but she didn't want to be the kind of person who dropped hints, and she didn't want to propose to him without knowing how he felt about the prospect of marriage.

Now he was looking at her, waiting for a response, looking like he was on the verge of apologizing.

"Vizh, of course. Of course I want to marry you."

"Really?"

"Yes," she laughed.

He laughed in relief. "When shall we plan it? We need to find a ring, find a venue. Do you want to buy a dress?"

"We don't need to figure everything out tonight," she said. "Tonight, we celebrate." She used her power to turn on the record player, moving the needle to the third song on the record, which she thought was "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," but was actually "Shine On, Harvest Moon." She decided to go with it. "Will you dance with me, Vision?"

"Of course." He stood and took her hand in his.

"Do you remember the day you taught me to dance?" Wanda asked.

"I remember the day I convinced you to try it," he replied. "I will take no credit for teaching you."

She chuckled at his diffidence. "It was a few months after we met. Pepper wanted us to go to that party to let people get to know the Avengers. I was terrified. I hadn't danced since I was a child playing dress-up in my mother's Sunday clothes and pointy shoes."

"You told me you'd never danced before," he recalled.

"I hardly would have admitted what I just admitted at the time," she laughed.

He spun her around, and held her a little closer once she was back in his arms. "So I was accurate in my contention that I did not teach you to dance."

"You can't deny you taught me how to waltz. Anyway," she lowered her voice, "that's the day I realized I could fall in love with you if I let myself."

"Really? That soon in our acquaintance?"

"Yes. If I hadn't been in mourning, it would have been sooner."

The song ended. The next song on the record was "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," which she'd wanted to play in the first place.

Wanda laid her head on Vision's chest and they swayed to the music.

"If I may ask, when did you decide to let yourself?" Vision inquired.

"I don't know. One day I realized it wasn't a choice anymore. It was too late."

This was a lie. She did know. Not the exact day, but the circumstances: sitting alone in a cell in a prison hidden under the sea, in a shock collar and straitjacket, realizing the most painful part of the situation was that she would probably never see Vision again.

But she wouldn't say that and bring such a somber memory to this moment of celebration. She didn't want to remember that time at all.

She whisked the memory out of her mind.


	16. Transition

I am ashamed—I hide—  
What right have I—to be a Bride—  
So late a Dowerless Girl—  
Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face—  
No one to teach me that new Grace—  
Nor introduce—my Soul—

Me to adorn—How—tell—  
Trinket—to make Me beautiful—  
Fabrics of Cashmere—  
Never a Gown of Dun—more—  
Raiment instead—of Pompadour—  
For Me—My soul—to wear—

Fingers—to frame my Round Hair  
Oval—as Feudal Ladies wore—  
Far Fashions—Fair—  
Skill to hold my Brow like an Earl—  
Plead—like a Whippoorwill—  
Prove—like a Pearl—  
Then, for Character—  
Fashion My Spirit quaint—white—  
Quick—like a Liquor—  
Gay—like Light—  
Bring Me my best Pride—  
No more ashamed—  
No more to hide—  
Meek—let it be—too proud—for Pride—  
Baptized—this Day—a Bride—

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

They had a small, simple wedding ceremony with only a few friends attending, officiated by their local justice of the peace at the old courthouse. For Wanda it passed in a happy blur.

They drove to their new house, which was only a few blocks away from the S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse they'd been staying in. Wanda had wanted to start their married life in a place of their own.

Vision swept her off her feet and carried her across the threshold. Once inside their new home, he set her on her feet, danced her around the room for a mintute, dipped her, then kissed her, leaving her giddily light-headed.

She leaned her forehead against his, smiling, breathing him in. "We're home," she said.

"We're married," he added. "This is the happiest day of my life."

They stood there, reveling in each other's nearness, for another minute, then Vision backed away.

"I will bring our luggage in from the car so we can get settled in."

"Let me change out of this dress and I'll come help you."

"I would prefer if you take this time to relax. It has been a long day. I can easily carry our luggage myself. And, if it's alright with you..." He traced his fingers over the edge of her sleeve. "I would like to see you in your wedding dress for a while longer. You are radiant." His voice grew quieter, with a hint of huskiness that made her shiver. "And then I would like to help you out of it."

He left to unload the car. Wanda had to take a few deep breaths to quell the fire his words had kindled in her.

She wandered from the front room to the dining room to the hall. She ran her fingers along the bannister. This house came fully furnished and decorated. It didn't seem new, but a week ago the property it was on had been a vacant lot—the very vacant lot where Wanda had buried the Infinity Stone that had emerged the night Jane Foster came to town. Wanda hadn't consciously meant to create it, but after she decided she wanted a house of their own, and thought about what she wanted it to be, it had appeared overnight.

It scared her to think about it too deeply. It made her nervous to actually get something she wanted. There was a part of her—the Sokovian street urchin in her—that was sure eventually someone would realize it was all a mistake and it would all be taken away from her, that some terrible price would be exacted for her present happiness. She worried she could screw everything up somehow. After all, she had never been married before, or been around anyone who was married since her parents' death. Would she be a good wife? She told herself it would be just like living together, but part of her feared she would never be good enough for Vision, no matter what he might believe.

But when she was with Vision, able to see his happiness at being with her, at the normal, tranquil life she could offer him, she put those fears out of her thoughts.

He returned, carrying their luggage to their bedroom. She followed him.

He set their suitcases out of the way and turned to her. "Are you hungry? Or tired?" he asked considerately.

She draped her arms around his neck. "No."

* * *

Wanda woke up the next morning to the smell of something cinnamony from the kitchen. Her wedding dress was draped over a chair, proof that yesterday hadn't been just a happy dream.

She grabbed some clothes out of her suitcase, dressed, and went to the kitchen, where Vision was cooking French toast.

"Good morning, my husband," she said.

"Good morning, my beautiful wife." He kissed her before dishing up some French toast for her and pouring them both cups of tea. He had recently started experimenting with consuming things in order to avoid arousing suspicion. He'd found eating food to be complicated and mildly uncomfortable, but he enjoyed the sensation of drinking hot tea, and the companionship of having something to do when sharing a table with someone.

At the center of the table was a glass vase containing sprigs of fresh flowers.

"These flowers are a nice touch. They smell wonderful," she commented.

"Honeysuckle. They're growing in our backyard," Vision said.

Wanda ate her breakfast hungrily.

"How is it?"

"Good. A little more syrup than I like, but otherwise it's perfect."

"I will remember that for the future."

Wanda chuckled, which made Vision smile. It was their first morning as husband and wife. Wanda thought that if every day for the rest of her life could start like this one, she would never want anything more.

After breakfast, Wanda washed the dishes, and Vision dried them and put them away. As he took the frying pan from her hand, their fingers brushed. Their eyes met, and before they knew it, their lips had too. They stood there kissing on front of the sink, both of them with one hand wrapped around the pan's handle.

There was a knock at the door.

They broke apart like they'd been caught.

"Who could that be?" Wanda wondered.

"I'll check."

Vision transformed into his disguise as he walked to the door. He cracked it open. "Hello. Can I help you?"

"Hi. I'm Agnes. I live down the street. I saw you moved in and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I hope you like cookies. These are sour cream sugar cookies, my grandmother's recipe. Your house is absolutely enchanting, Mister...?"

It took Vision a beat to respond with his chosen alias. "Oh, uh...Shade. Victor Shade."

Wanda stepped into the front room to greet their guest.

"And this is my wife, Wanda." His voice grew softer at the word 'wife', as if he still couldn't believe it.

The woman—Agnes—did a double take when she saw Wanda. Her smile seemed to sputter for an instant. Wanda was fillled with panic that Agnes recognized her. But her smile returned so quickly Wanda wondered if she imagined it.

"It is lovely to meet you, Mrs. Shade. What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Oh, my husband and I just wanted a nice, quiet place to settle down."

"Well, you couldn't have picked a better place than Westview for that. And your house is unbelievable." She walked through the front room, looking around at the decor.

"Thank you," Wanda replied, a little nervously. She'd never had a home of her own to welcome someone to, and she wasn't sure exactly what the protocol was. Should she offer a tour? Invite Agnes to come back later? Tell her she was welcome any time?

Fortunately, Agnes continued talking before Wanda's silence could get awkward. "It is lovely to have a woman my own age nearby. All our neighbors on this block are super nice, but most of them are retired. What do you do for a living?"

"I make crafts, and Victor will start teaching at the college in September," Wanda answered, remembering to use Vision's alias.

"Oh really?" Agnes turned to him with intetest. "What do you teach?"

"Literature," Vision answered.

"How interesting! I love your accent. Are you from England?"

"Yes, originally. A long time ago."

"What part?"

"Near London."

"I've always wanted to go to England. Everyone there just sounds so fancy and sophisticated."

"I regret to inform you, you won't think that once you've been to England," he joked.

"And where are you from?" she asked Wanda.

"New York," she lied.

"Really? My husband and I hail from the Big Apple ourselves. What borough are you from?"

Wanda drew a blank. She didn't even know what that meant.

Vision jumped to her rescue. "If you would forgive us, we have a busy day of unpacking ahead of us. Perhaps we could have you and your husband over some other time and we could get to know each other?" He glanced questioningly at Wanda to see if him offering this invitation was alright with her.

Her heart melted with that look, to see that he was just as nervous and uncertain about their roles in their married life as she was. They would both be figuring it out together.

"Of course," she said. She tore her eyes away from her husband to look at Agnes. "We should have you and your husband over for dinner sometime."

"That would be tremendous. I'll just leave the cookies on the table. You can keep the plate, I have dozens. It was so great to meet you, Wanda. You don't mind if I call you Wanda, do you? I have a feeling we're going to be fast friends."

"I don't mind, Agnes," she said as the other woman took her hand in a dainty handshake that seemed at odds with her exuberant personality.

"I'll be seeing you again soon," Agnes said as she left.

The closing of the door seemed to echo in the relative silence left in her wake.

"She seems kind," Wanda commented, taking a cookie.

"I believe the expression is 'she seems nice'. Whether someone is kind or not can't really be determined in such a perfunctory interaction," Vision said.

Wanda thought about that as she nibbled the cookie. There had been something odd about Agnes, but at any rate, she didn't seem malicious. And Wanda was trying to assume the best of everyone until she saw a reason to think otherwise. It was a new attitude she was trying out in her life, and she wasn't very good at it yet.

"She wasn't being completely honest," she said. "There's no way these cookies are her grandmother's recipe, unless her grandmother works at that bakery down on Cardinal Lane."

Vision frowned. "You believe she was trying to mislead us?"

"About her baking skills, anyway."

"Well, I am in no position to hold that against her," he said.

"Don't sell yourself short: you're a great cook, for someone who doesn't eat," she teased him.

He smiled, wrapped one arm around her, and kissed the top of her head. "We should get back to tidying the kitchen. We do have a great deal to do today."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I can't wait."


	17. Twinges

Come to me, Eros, if you needs must come  
This year, with milder twinges;  
Aim not your arrow at the bull’s eye plumb,  
But let the outer pericardium  
Be where the point impinges.

Garishly beautiful I watch them wane  
Like sunsets in a pink west,  
The passions of the past; but O their pain!  
You recollect that nice affair with Jane?  
We nearly had an inquest.

I want some mellower romance than these,  
Something that shall not waken  
The bosom of the bard from midnight ease,  
Nor spoil his appetite for breakfast, please,  
(Porridge and eggs and bacon).

Something that shall not steep the soul in gall,  
Nor plant it in excelsis,  
Nor quite prevent the bondman in its thrall  
From biffing off the tee as good a ball  
As anybody else’s.

But rather, when the world is dull and gray  
And everything seems horrid,  
And books are impotent to charm away  
The leaden-footed hours, shall make me say,  
“My hat!” (and strike my forehead)

“I am in love, O circumstance how sweet!  
O ne’er-to-be-forgot knot!”  
And praise the damsel’s eyebrows, and repeat  
Her name out loud, until it’s time to eat,  
Or go to bed, or what not.

This is the kind of desultory bolt,  
Eros, I bid you shoot me;  
One with no barb to agitate and jolt,  
One where the feathers have begun to moult—  
Any old sort will suit me.

~E. V. Knox, “To the God of Love”

* * *

Vision paused at the door and smiled. He could hear Wanda inside, singing.

How was it that even after all this time, he missed her after being away all day?

He opened the door.

Wanda was sewing in the living room, singing along with the radio. She stopped and looked up when he entered. "Welcome home, my love."

"It is always so good to see you." He stooped down to kiss her before sitting across from her.

"How were your classes?"

"They were wonderful. We've finally finished the section on James Joyce in Literature of the 20th Century. I am looking forward to not discussing _Ulysses_ again for a very long while."

She laughed.

He watched her sew, watched her hands move and the needles glow as her power flowed through them. He had always loved watching her hands.

When was the first time he noticed how beautiful her hands were?

"Wanda..." he said hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"How long have we been married?"

"A few years," she replied. "Why?"

"How long have we known each other?"

"A few years more than that. You're not getting tired of me already, are you?" she asked jokingly. Almost entirely jokingly.

"On the contrary. Every day, I feel I love you more, but I'm not sure how that can be possible. I'm trying to remember a time before I loved you, and I can't." He was having trouble remembering the day they met, or when they moved to Westview. He was sure there had been something before. "That isn't normal, is it?"

"Is this because of Agnes and her husband getting divorced? Just because they got tired of each other doesn't mean it will happen to us."

"Agnes said it was Ralph who grew tired of her."

Wanda shrugged. "But she didn't sound at all broken up about it when she told us, which makes me think the feeling was mutual. But we're not like them."

"True," Vision agreed. As fond as he'd grown of their neighbor Agnes over the years, he could not imagine living with her and not quickly becoming overwhelmed and fatigued. "However, I have heard that in lasting marriages, the passionate love of the first year or two transitions to a companionate love based on friendship, trust, and shared experiences."

"I think we have that."

"And yet every time I look at you, the love I feel is not one based on familiarity and security. I am overcome with amazement that I am married to you, that out of everyone in the world, I am the one you love. I can't imagine my life without you."

She paused in her sewing to look at him, and her expression seemed slightly melancholy. "Try not to love me quite so much."

That was startlingly far from what he had been expecting her to say. "Why not?"

"When you love someone, it can hurt. The more deeply you love, the deeper it hurts. I never want to cause you any pain or sadness. I only want you to love me enough that I make you happy. I would hate if loving me ever causes you pain."

"You do make me happy," he assured her, perplexed by her reasoning. "Every day."

She smiled at him fondly. "Good. I'm glad."

"Has loving me ever caused you pain?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "Never."

But there had been a very long pause before that _never._


	18. Yet Unnamed

...

From the sea like the sea-ril with her golden key,  
By a magpie bridge, the seventh day of the seventh month,  
Unless the swords are stirring in their sheaths:  
These days the destructive north is seldom worshipped -  
In autumn the tiger descends from the west, smoke  
From the burning leaves protects my jewel, yet unnamed.

~Medbh McGuckian, from "The Weaver-Girl"

* * *

Wanda paused outside the door. She'd been thinking about it all the way home, but still didn't know how she was going to tell Vision.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Vision was grading essays at the table. He looked up at her. "Welcome home. Did you accomplish all of your errands?"

She smiled, trying to cover up her nervousness. "Yeah."

He immediately frowned, put aside his stack of papers, and stood to approach her. "Wanda, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she assured him. She sighed. Of course she couldn't hide anything from Vision. "One of the errands I was running today... So, for a couple of months now, I've been feeling just a little... _off._ Not sick or anything, just different. Like...just like my body hasn't been acting normally. I've been hungrier than normal, more tired than normal... Anyway..."

He was standing in front of her now, staring at her with deep concern.

She continued. "I thought it was probably nothing. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to worry. But I did make an appointment with a doctor..."

He grasped her shoulders, his concern building to distress. "Wanda, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She smiled nervously, and covered one of his hands with hers. "It's just...we're pregnant."

He froze. She said nothing more, waiting for him to process it.

They had both wanted a child, but hadn't thought it would be possible. A couple of years ago, they had registered with every adoption agency in town, but that route hadn't panned out. Apparently there had been no tragic deaths of young parents and no unintended pregnancies in Westview for a while. A few months ago, Wanda had started to wonder if she could call on the power of the Reality Stone one more time to bring about something she and Vision both desired. She had tried it, starting with a small, simple nudge to reality, barely more than a wish.

She hadn't expected it to work.

"Are you certain?" Vision finally asked.

"Yes." She took his hand and pressed it to her stomach. "It's real."

She was prepared to tell him about the Infinity Stones if he asked how it could be possible. The only reason she hadn't told him about them yet was that she was so afraid of them she didn't even want to verbalize their existence, as if they wouldn't be really real if she didn't speak of them.

But he didn't ask.

"It's a miracle," he whispered, his thumb drawing little circles over her abdomen reverently. His other hand cupped her cheek, and he gazed into her eyes. "You're a miracle."

"Doctor Ramos says it's still early in the pregnancy, and...fifteen percent of pregnancies...don't make it, and the earlier in the pregnancy it is the more likely it is to miscarry. She says we should be prepared for that possibility..."

"Wanda." Vision pulled her into his arms. "It will be fine. We are having a baby."

She smiled as joy broke through her worries, her fear, and the weight of the secrets she carried. "It's wonderful."


	19. Collateral

Who said 'Peacock Pie'?  
The old King to the sparrow:  
Who said, 'Where sleeps she now?  
Where rests she now her head,  
Bathed in eve's loveliness?'  
That's what I said.

Who said, 'Ay, mum's the word'?  
Sexton to willow:  
Who said, 'Green dusk for dreams,  
Moss for a pillow'?  
Who said, 'All Time's delight  
Hath she for a narrow bed;  
Life's troubled bubble broken'?  
That's what I said.

~Walter de la Mare, “The Song of the Mad Prince”

* * *

It started with a prenatal check-up, when Dr. Ramos told them they were having twins.

Vision was both delighted and terrified by the news. "Twins?" he echoed.

She nodded. "Two healthy, active fetuses."

Vision glanced at Wanda. He couldn't tell what she was thinking or feeling.

"Twins," she said to herself.

"I know it's surprising news," Dr. Ramos said. "Not exactly what you signed up for."

"I knew it was possible," Wanda said. "It runs in my family." She managed a small smile. "But this does mean we'll be even busier than we thought."

Vision smiled and took her hand. "I am confident we will rise to the occasion."

Dr. Ramos smiled. "You'll have to choose twice as many names. And I can tell you from experience, motherhood takes a lot of work. If you have family that lives nearby, or a godparent or friends who could look after your babies a couple of times a month to give you and your husband a night out, it will be a life saver."

"Godparent?" Wanda said.

"We don't have any family nearby," Vision quickly explained, worried by how dazed and overwhelmed Wanda was beginning to look. "But we do have friends and neighbors who might be convinced to babysit now and then."

Dr. Ramos gave them some information on what to expect during this stage of the pregnancy, and recommended some books for them to check out at the library. Vision paid close attention and asked a few questions. Wanda stayed silent for the rest of the appointment.

She still seemed distracted and troubled when they walked out of the office.

"Are you alright?" Vision asked her.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about having twins?"

"I don't know. Does it matter how I feel? Whether I'm happy or sad about it, we're having twins."

"Mixed feelings are natural. Especially for you in this circumstance. Because of Pietro."

He'd been worried how she would take his observation, but she only nodded.

"In one way, I'm excited. Pietro and I were so close, I want our children to have that kind of relationship. But I'm also scared. I don't want them to have the kind of life Pietro and I had."

"They won't. Their lives will be different. Their relationship might also be different. They may not get along at all."

Wanda smiled and nodded. "You're right. I have no reason to be worried. I guess I'm just being superstitious."

Their conversation turned to lighter matters, and Vision thought Wanda would be okay.

That night, there was a thunder storm, which was unusual. Other than the night Vision first came to Westview, the only rain he could recall had been gentle, refreshing showers. This wasn't a violent storm, but it has steady rain and nearly constant rumbling thunder.

Vision found Wanda in the living room, sitting on the floor with the dictionary open in front of her. With a glance, Vision saw it was the page that contained the definition of "godparent," as well as "godmother" and "godfather."

"Are you alright?"

"Who would take care of the babies if something happened to us?" Her voice sounded small.

"Nothing is going to happen to us," he reassured her.

"We can't know that. I don't want…" She wrapped her arms around her rounded abdomen. "I don't want our children to ever be orphans."

This gloom was so unlike her it scared him. "We are not like your parents, Wanda. I am a synthezoid with superhuman strength and the ability to move through walls, and you can move objects with your mind. What could possibly happen to us?"

She pulled her legs up and leaned her head on her knees. "There are things… Hidden things. I wasn't able to protect them before. I wasn't strong enough, or smart enough, or...something enough. What if something comes for them? What if we have to fight again? Who will take care of the twins if we can't?"

He didn't know what to say. He couldn't think of anyone either.

"Come to bed. It's late. We have plenty of time to decide who to ask to be our twins' godparents."

She smiled at him. "You're right. It will be fine."

That was the night she began to talk in her sleep.

It was usually mumbles, but sometimes Vision could make out words and phrases, sometimes in Sokovian, which was a language she never spoke while awake anymore, and sometimes in English. "I'm sorry, Clint." "I don't like the rules." "It's at the pawn shop." "She'd make a good godmother." "Oh, I can."

She would never remember what she'd been dreaming about once she woke up.

By this point in her pregnancy she was frequently getting up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or get a snack, so when on another thundery night she left the bed around 3 a.m., he didn't think much of it until he heard the front door open.

He flew out of bed and through the wall, finding Wanda walking barefoot along the road. He approached her. "Wanda?"

When she didn't respond, he realized she was sleepwalking. He followed behind her, not sure what to do.

She turned a corner and he lost sight of her in the dark.

"Wanda? Where are you?" he called into the night, getting frantic but not yet panicked enough to shout loud enough to wake the neighborhood.

Moments later he saw a light up ahead. To his surprise, it was outside the house they'd lived in before their marriage. Wanda's sleepwalking had brought her back to a familiar place, at least.

Even more surprising, the light was not the scarlet red her power usually manifested. It was a deep orange glow that formed a sphere amongst the bushes in the front yard. Then a blue glow and red glow were added to it.

Vision felt the Mind Stone flare up. Whatever she was doing, it was responding.

A yellow glow joined the swirling maelstrom of light, which merged together, becoming a bright brown.

She wasn't moving her hands. Her hands were up, palms forward like she was pushing against an invisible wall, but she was still as a statue.

"Wanda…". He approached her slowly.

The glowing ball suddenly grew outward, expanding and brightening with a sound that wasn't thunder—a quiet but frightening crackling sound.

And then it was silent, and the night was dark again. Almost too dark to see Wanda fall to the ground.

"Wanda!" He flew to her.

Her eyes focused on him. "Vizh? What are we doing here?"

"You were sleepwalking. And...doing something with your power I've never seen before."

"I don't remember it."

She began to shiver. Vision wrapped his arms around her. "Let's go home."

She nodded.

They walked away. Neither of them saw what was lying between the bushes in the dark yard.


	20. Phantom Image

The spider as an artist  
Has never been employed  
Though his surpassing merit  
Is freely certified

By every broom and Bridget  
Throughout a Christian land.  
Neglected son of genius,  
I take thee by the hand.

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

She opened her eyes and was in darkness. She was cold and uncomfortable, but not in pain. That surprised her.

Why did that surprise her?

She'd just done something that should have been incredibly painful. What? Why couldn't she remember?

She'd been arguing with Clint about something, and…

What? There were floating threads of memory that wouldn't stay in her mind. They'd disappear as soon as she tried to grasp at them.

The sound of crickets came to her awareness. It was dark because it was night. She was outside. There were leaves and twigs around her.

She sat up, trying to figure out where she was. There were street lamps. Houses were dark. Late night. No stars. Cloudy.

She patted herself down and felt around where she'd been lying in the grass, trying to assess what she had with her. Nothing but the clothes she was wearing. No I.D. No cash. No weapons.

Where was she?

She began walking, not wanting to stay in the place where she had apparently been incapacitated or dumped, just in case. It wasn't too cold, but moving would keep her body from chilling. If she could make her way to a business center, she might be able to find a phone.

That was a plan.

How did she get here? Was her fight with Clint a dream? Was…

What wasn't a dream? It felt like she'd just woken up from a nightmare, but she couldn't remember it or what she was doing before it.

The sky soon lightened. She passed a woman walking her dog.

"Good morning!" The woman said.

She didn't trust her voice enough to respond.

The dog—a wiggly little black pug on a long leash—came up to her, sniffed at her, and gave her a playful bark.

"Sorry about my dog. She thinks everyone's job is to pet her." The woman smiled apologetically, then frowned as she got a closer look at her. "Are you alright? You look a bit out of sorts."

She shook her head slightly. She'd been worried the woman would recognize her, now she didn't know what to say.

"You poor thing. You don't live around here, do you?"

"No," she managed to say.

"Come with me. Let's get some coffee and breakfast in you."

She thought she should refuse, but a hot cup of coffee sounded like the best thing in the universe to her at the moment, and…

How long had it been since she last ate?

So she didn't protest when the woman took her arm and followed the dog toward a nearby house, one of the few with windows glowing invitingly through the weak light of the overcast dawn.

"My name's Janan, by the way. The dog's name is Vega, like the star."

"I'm Nat..." She stopped herself from giving her real name, just in case. "Natalie."

It was comfortably warm inside Janan's house. She introduced her husband, Qasim, who was making waffles, then poured her a mug of coffee. Nat cradled it in her hands, grateful for the heat, aroma, and promise of a clearer head.

"Is there someone I could call for you?" Janan asked.

Call someone. Who could she call? She couldn't remember what happened to Clint, but she had the impression he'd been avoiding her calls. Steve Rogers, maybe. Sam or Wanda… They were gone. She couldn't remember what happened to them, but she felt like they were dead.

What happened? How did they die? Why couldn't she remember?

Steve was probably her best bet.

"May I use your phone?" Nat asked.

"Absolutely."

Their phone was a landline, an old rotary phone the likes of which Nat hadn't seen in years. She turned the dial to the numbers of Steve's cellphone, which she still had memorized.

"The number you have dialed is not in service…"

She tried Clint's number next, and Laura's, getting the same result.

What was wrong?

What year was this? Had she traveled back in time?

That didn't seem like a crazy idea to her. She thought she'd traveled back in time recently, though she couldn't remember why. Maybe she'd gone back too far, and she was trapped in the past.

She couldn't just ask what year it was without sounding crazy. She'd have to discreetly check a newspaper or something when she had the chance.

"No luck?" Janan asked sympathetically.

"No. No answer."

"I'm sorry. You can try again after breakfast."

The breakfast of thick walnut waffles generously supplied with butter and maple syrup was revitalizing. As she ate, Nat found she could think a little more clearly, though she still couldn't remember how she came to be here, wherever she was. Though she didn't seem to have any cuts or bruises, her clothes were torn like she'd been in a fight. She must have suffered a head injury.

"I take it you haven't had a decent meal in a while," Qasim noted.

"I haven't had anything this good in a while," she deflected. "This is delicious."

"Thank you. You look like you've been through a lot. What happened?"

"I actually don't remember," she confided. "I think I might've been in an accident. Is there a hospital nearby?"

Janan looked suddenly distressed. She stood. "Yes. The hospital is on the other side of town. I'll drive you there."

Nat smiled reassuringly. "After breakfast. If there's something so wrong with me that I'm dying from it, I want this waffle for my last meal."

* * *

It was a very small hospital, and so early in the morning it wasn't busy. Right after arriving, Nat was taken to the office of Dr. Elisa Ramos.

"So you don't remember anything weird and horrible happening to the world in the past few years?" Nat asked.

The doctor shook her head, shining a light in Nat's eyes to assess her pupil dilation. "Nothing comes to mind."

"I guess it's just me. Maybe it was something I dreamed. I just don't remember."

"Well, there's no sign of concussion, no contusions or electrical burns," Dr. Ramos said. "Drugs and alcohol can also cause memory loss. Do you use anything?"

She shook her head. "I never drink enough to get drunk, and I don't take any drugs harder than aspirin. It's possible someone slipped me something."

Dr. Ramos nodded. "That's possible. There's also another possibility. You seem like a very smart woman, so you may already know physical trauma isn't the only thing that can affect memory. Psychological trauma can also cause amnesia."

Nat had known that. Depression could cause problems with memory formation and recall, and traumatic events could lead to dissociative identity disorder.

"That could be it," she said. "I don't remember anything recent clearly, but I have a fuzzy memory of fighting with my best friend. I think that's the last thing I remember."

"Was it a heated argument?"

Nat frowned, trying to recall any details. "Not really heated, I don't think. I think I was trying to stop him from doing something stupid. Something dangerous. Maybe I failed. Maybe he's…"

Maybe Clint was dead. If she'd witnessed Clint's death, a death she'd failed to stop, it might have been enough to cause trauma-induced amnesia.

Dr. Ramos looked at her with an expression that indicated she believed they were onto something, but she didn't push it. She took out an address book and thumbed through it until she found a name and phone number, which she wrote on a slip of paper. "Your memory might start returning with a little time and rest. I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist for now, but if you get even a little headache I want you back in here for observation. Do you have a place to stay?"

"Not really. And I don't have any money at the moment. I seem to have forgotten my wallet somewhere."

"There's a hotel on Main Street called Palace Inn. The owner's a friend of mine. I'll call to let them know you're coming, and they'll put you up for a few days free of charge. The Milky Way Diner is right down the block from it. They're always looking for help, and if you explain the situation they'll pay you cash for washing dishes and wiping down tables. I'd also recommend," she wrote down another name and number, "that you talk to Sheriff Bunting. He's in his eighties, but he's still a good cop, and he sees laws as tools for keeping people safe rather than as strict commandments, in case there's anything you're worried about him finding. If you tell him your situation he could let you know if your car or purse or anything turns up."

Nat wasn't sure yet if she would do that. So far, no one had recognized her, which was good, but she'd have to tell law enforcement her real identity for them to help her, and she couldn't sort out her memories enough to know what her current legal status was. She'd been on so many sides of the law over her lifetime.

"Thanks," she said as she took the list of names and numbers.

"I have another appointment I'm running a bit late for," Dr. Ramos said with a glance at her wall clock, "but I'll see you out and have our receptionist call you a cab. Call me in the morning to let me know how you're doing. That's doctor's orders."

There were only a few people in the waiting room. Nat, her spy instincts still sharp, sized each of them up within a second.

And, with a shock, she recognized two of them.

Wanda and Vision's eyes widened as they recognized her. Wanda rose slowly, her mouth agape.

"Nat?"

She stared back at her, unable to process their presence.

Wanda and Vision were dead. Weren't they?

Wanda rushed to her, pulling her into a tight hug. "Nat! What are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again!"

"You two know each other?" Dr. Ramos asked in surprise.

"Yes! She's an old friend of mine from the city. We lost touch a few years ago. This is crazy. What are you doing here?"

"It's kind of a long story," Nat said, not wanting to explain her mysterious memory loss where other people could overhear. "But what about you? I haven't seen you in years. And...it looks like there's been some developments." She glanced pointedly at Wanda's obvious baby bump.

"You could say that." She took Vision's hand as he stepped next to her. "We're married, and we're expecting."

"Twins," Vision added in a tone that managed to convey both excitement and trepidation.

Nat smirked. She wondered how the two of them could have gotten pregnant, but it really was none of her business. "So you're living here now?"

"Yes. If you're not busy, we'll show you around. Right now we have a check-up. It's nothing serious. I've just started sleepwalking and Vizh wants me to make sure everything's okay. It shouldn't take long." She looked at her beseechingly. "You should come stay with us for a while."

"Please," Vision added. "We have an extra bedroom."

"I wouldn't want to impose," Nat said, hoping they wouldn't accept that. Staying with them would give her time to figure out what was going on.

"You wouldn't be. You'd be doing me the favor of letting me repay you a little bit for all the things you've ever done for me," Wanda said.

"Okay. That would be great."

"I guess that takes care of that," Dr. Ramos said, smiling. She addressed Wanda. "We'll make your check-up quick. It sounds like you've got a lot of catching up to do."

* * *

On the drive from the hospital to Wanda and Vision's house, Nat explained how she had woken up on a lawn with no memory of how she got there, and no clear memory of anything that had happened in a while.

"I feel like something terrible happened, but I don't remember any details," she reported. "I thought the two of you were dead, as well as Sam and...a lot of other people. I think something terrible happened to Clint."

"Last time I saw him, Clint was fine," Wanda said. "He and Laura let me stay with them for a while before I moved here."

"Laura's okay?" Nat asked.

"Yes. She's great."

"How are the kids?"

"They're fine. You wouldn't believe how big Nate is getting. We should invite them out for a visit sometime, once the twins are born."

"That would be great," Nat said, though something about that thought grew fuzzy in her brain as soon as she said it. She considered for a second asking to drive out to see them at their farmhouse, but her mind dismissed that as impossible without knowing why. She did feel both relief and confusion to learn Clint was fine.

Once they arrived at the house, Vision showed Nat to the guest bedroom.

It wasn't a large room, consisting of a chest of drawers, a twin bed, and a closet, but it was comfortable, with a dark brown shag carpet and fresh green wallpaper.

"It will be the bedroom for one of the twins in a few years," Vision explained. "We have a nursery for them in the room next to ours, which we can convert into a bedroom, but Wanda thinks once they are old enough they should each have their own room. It is a bit early to worry about it, but when Wanda wants something to happen, she has a way of making it a reality."

"She's pretty excited?"

"We both are. We could not be happier."

"How did you end up in this town?"

Vision tilted his head, frowning slightly, like he was trying to remember. "How we came to live in Westview?"

"Wait, Westview? We're in Westview?"

"Yes."

"Connecticut?"

"That's right," he confirmed.

"Fury kept a safehouse here, one not even S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about. He told me and Clint about it in case we needed to hide out here while we were on the run after the fight between Tony and Steve…" It didn't make sense that she could remember some things so clearly—phone numbers, addresses, being on the run after the Avengers' schism—but everything after that was so vague.

"Wanda and I lived in that safehouse before moving into this house after our wedding."

"That makes sense," Nat said.

"What makes sense?" Wanda asked as she joined them.

"That Clint would send you here to hide out. It just occurred to me: it can't be a coincidence that I just happened to wake up here, in the town where you're living," she mused. "I think I must have been looking for you. But I can't remember why."

Were they in danger? she wondered. Was she here to protect them from something? Something that had gotten to her, or nearly gotten her? Is that why she'd been unconscious?

"I hope your memory comes back," Wanda said. "That must be so...confusing and frightening."

"It is."

They all fell quiet for a moment, considering the implications of Nat's condition.

"Well," Vision said. "I am going to prepare lunch. Do you have any requests?"

"We still have some of that vegetable soup from last night. Maybe that and grilled cheese sandwiches?" Wanda suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Nat said.

"Alright." Vision kissed Wanda's forehead, then left them. Wanda's eyes trailed after him, full of a dreamy fondness.

She shook it off to turn her smile to Nat.

"Whatever brought you here, I'm really happy to see you. I've missed you. A lot. I honestly thought I'd never see you again. When Vision and I decided to start a life here, we didn't really tell people where to find us. It just seems safer that way. We have made friends here, but it's not the same. There's no one here we can really be ourselves around, if you know what I mean."

They were hiding out, starting a family, leaving behind their old lives with the Avengers. Nat couldn't blame them. She'd once thought of doing the same thing.

"You both seem really happy here," she said.

"We are. This is a good place to start over, take care of ourselves. It's a safe place." She put her hand over her stomach, then looked back at Nat. "It could be for you too, you know. You were so young when you were forced into a life you didn't choose. Have you ever just rested for a while? Here you could stop fighting. You could take some time to just relax, heal, think about what you really want to do with your life."

Relax? Stop fighting?

Why not?

The world wouldn't stop spinning without her. And if something happened and the Avengers needed to assemble again, Connecticut wasn't that far from New York. And if her theory that she'd come here to protect Wanda and Vision from something was right, she should stay close until she figured out what it was.

"There's a little space for rent on Main Street," Wanda said thoughtfully. "It would make a good spot to have classes. You could teach karate there. Or ballet, or languages, or anything you wanted. The truth is…" She glanced down at her stomach. "I have no idea what I'm doing, and I could really use your help. You are the most clever, competent, strongest person I've ever met, and I feel safer just knowing you're close."

"I'll think about it," Nat said, even though she'd already made up her mind.

* * *

After lunch, Nat and Wanda were continuing their chat in the living room while Vision washed dishes when someone knocked on the door.

"That sounds like Agnes," Vision said, coming in to answer it.

"Our neighbor," Wanda explained.

Vision opened the door, and a young woman with brown hair in a side ponytail came in carrying a paper bag.

"I found the best sale on blueberries, and I just had to get some for the mother-to-be," she declared. She stopped short when she saw Nat. "And who might you be?"

"Agnes, this is our old friend Natasha," Wanda introduced them.

Agnes tilted her head. "Natasha? That's a nice name. What is it, Russian?"

"Yes." She had a feeling Agnes had only asked that to cover up a startle reaction. "How long have you lived around here, Agnes?"

"Oh, about a decade or so. I live in the blue house down the block. I've known Wanda and Vic since the day they moved in."

"Is that right?" That sounded suspiciously like a detail someone would drop to deliberately allay suspicions. "Where did you find the blueberries?"

"Farmers Mart, the best grocery store in town. Is this your first visit to Westview, Natasha?"

"Yes."

Wanda stood up. "Thank you so much for the blueberries, Agnes. How much do we owe you for them?"

"They're a gift, as always. What are neighbors for if not to take care of each other? Speaking of which, how are you feeling?"

"Great. The doctor says the babies are fine. Victor wants to do everything for me."

"I just… Your energy is currently being utilized to grow two new humans inside you. It is only fair that I do everything I can to let you rest," Vision said defensively.

Agnes chuckled. She glanced back at Nat. "Will you be in town for long, Natasha?"

"We'll see," she replied.

"Well, I hope we'll be able to chat some more, but right now I need to head. See you later."

"Thank you for coming by," Vision said as she departed.

Nat cracked open a curtain to watch Agnes walking away out the window. "Does she come by often?"

"She drops by every week or two," Wanda answered. "She's one of our closest friends here."

"Does she know who you are? What you used to do?"

Vision answered. "I don't believe so. If she recognized us, or noticed anything unusual, she has never said anything."

"I know what you're thinking, but Agnes is harmless," Wanda assured her. "We've known her for years, and if she meant us any harm I would have picked up on it."

"Good to know," Nat said. She was going to keep an eye on her anyway.


	21. Theory of Mind

“On the seventh day of the Seventh-month, in the Palace of Long Life,  
We told each other secretly in the quiet midnight world  
That we wished to fly in heaven, two birds with the wings of one,  
And to grow together on the earth, two branches of one tree.”

~from "Song of Unending Sorrow," Po Chü-i

* * *

Over the past week and a half, Bruce and Darcy had improved their measurements of the energy field surrounding Westview. It fluctuated in spots, but the average dimensions and energy level seemed to be constant. Meanwhile, Fury's team had been manufacturing excuses for why the world had lost touch with an entire town.

The excuses were not going to hold off reporters for long.

Bruce was alone in his lab, jotting down notes for an official explanation of the phenomenon that would be comprehensive and yet not panic-inducing—and ideally didn't mention Wanda—in case he was asked to give a press statement. He was interrupted by a text from Agnes asking if it was a good time for her to drop in. He responded with a yes, and a minute later, she stepped out of a portal.

"How are things on the inside?" he asked.

"God, it's like being trapped in a Normal Rockwell painting. Having to be nice all the time and pretending not to notice all the weirdness gets exhausting." She plopped into a swivel chair for emphasis. "I still haven't been able to figure out where Wanda's getting all that power from."

"We haven't made much progress on our side either. The energy field seems to be stable. Not really good news, but not bad news either. Have there been any new developments that you've noticed?"

Agnes laughed. "A couple. Wanda's pregnant. With twins, because why not. And it looks like she's brought another shade back from the grave."

"Let me guess: her brother."

"Guess again. Natasha Romanov."

Bruce jolted at the name. "You're sure?"

"I was pretty sure when Wanda told me her name, and as soon as I got out I looked up photos of her. It's her, bleached tips and all."

"You saw her? You met her?"

"Yeah. I talked to her."

He couldn't wrap his head around it. Why would Wanda create a simulacrum of Natasha?

"How was she?" he asked.

Agnes shrugged. "She seemed a little out of it, actually. A little groggy. But she practically interrogated me the minute I walked in."

"That sounds like her."

"It's not really her, you know. I don't see how it can be," she said sympathetically.

"Probably not. But… You said she had bleached tips?"

"Yeah. Not really the style in Westview these days."

"How long was her hair?"

Agnes pursed her lips, thinking. "It was in a braid, so it was hard to tell. I'd say it was about to her mid back. Only the bottom half of it was bleached. Why?"

"Because that's how her hair looked at the end of her life, five years after the Snap. The last time Wanda saw her, her hair was chin length."

"I don't know what to tell you. I don't see how it's possible. I found photos online of Natasha Romanov with that hair length; maybe Wanda did too."

"We don't know how anything Wanda's doing is possible. Let's keep an open mind. Next time you see her, could you maybe...try to get Nat to talk about her past?"

"Even if it's really her, she probably won't remember much. People in Westview tend to have fuzzy memories about anything unpleasant."

"Just try. I want to see if she remembers anything about her life that Wanda wouldn't know about. It might be a challenge. Nat might realize you're up to something. She is a trained spy. Maybe try telling her the truth."

"That's a bit drastic. But there's something else I could try. I know of a spell that...strongly encourages anyone in about a fifteen foot zone to tell the truth for a few minutes. We call it the 'marriage-wrecker'."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, not sure if she was serious. "You sorcerers are a pretty cynical lot, aren't you."

"You don't typically devote years of your life to studying arcane magics and eldrich dimensions if you're a people-person," she replied. "I'll talk to zombie Natasha. I'll let you know what I find out if I survive."

"I appreciate it," Bruce replied to her archness with his own.

"What are some things I should ask her about?"

"I don't want to bias you."

"So you'd send me into the lion's den completely unprepared? Thanks a lot."

When she was gone, Bruce sat down and stared out his window toward Westview. Was it possible Nat was really alive? The real Nat? Could Wanda have brought her back?

No. It was impossible. Nat was dead, her bones decaying on some distant planet. Whatever Wanda had created, it wasn't really her.

He wondered why Wanda hadn't tried to bring her brother back to life. Why Nat but not Pietro? It didn't make sense.

He was missing something.

* * *

Agnes watched the storefront freshly painted with the words "Westview Academy of Performing Arts." A dance class had left a few minutes ago, but Natasha was still in there. Agnes could see her through the window, practicing ballet moves. She'd gotten a haircut, a short, natural-colored pixie cut.

This investigation was ridiculous. Bruce wanted her to find something that wasn't there. But she was going to humor him. Spending time with this creation of Wanda's might help her figure out the source of Wanda's power.

Bracing herself to act pleasant, Agnes crossed the street and entered the premises.

"Hi Natasha. I heard you started teaching dance classes. How's it going?"

Nat turned off the music. "I just started this week. I don't have many students yet." She turned to Agnes. "I haven't seen you in a while. Have you been out of town?"

Agnes had spent a few days at Kamar-Taj to practice the spell she would need, which would have been weeks in Westview. This would be the first direct lie she'd have to tell the possible former assassin/spy. The first of many.

"I've been around," she said with a shrug. "Are you still staying with Wanda and Vic?"

"No. I've got my own place."

She apparently hadn't picked up on the lie. Either Agnes had pulled it off, or doppelgänger Natasha wasn't that astute.

"Wanda kick you out?" she joked.

"No. She actually asked me to stay to help out when the twins get here, but Victor said I might want to have my own base of operation if I'm going to be settling down here."

"I bet he wanted a little privacy back. They're not going to get much alone time once the babies are born."

"That could be a factor," Nat said neutrally.

"You've known Vic and Wanda for a long time, right? I bet you've got some great stories. If you've got some free time, let me buy you a milkshake. Milky Way Diner's got the best milkshakes I've ever had."

"Do I strike you as the milkshake type?" Nat inquired.

Agnes shrugged. "Who doesn't like milkshakes? But if you're not hungry, they've got some half-decent coffee."

"'Half-decent coffee'?" Nat repeated, her voice possibly bordering on suspicious.

"I'd go as far as to say it's three-quarters decent," Agnes joked.

"You know, I don't have any more classes today. I'll give these milkshakes a try."

Agnes assumed that the simulacrum of Natasha Romanov had only agreed to spend time with her because the real Natasha would be suspicious and would be trying to get information from her. But she'd take it.

"What kind of dancing do you teach?" she asked conversationally as they walked down the street to the diner.

"Ballet. I'm also offering judo, karate, boxing, and acting classes."

"Sounds like you've got a lot of expertise to offer."

"I've worn a lot of hats in my time," Nat replied. "Passing on some of the skills I've learned to the next generation feels like the right thing for me to be doing right now."

"That's admirable." Agnes personally couldn't stand children and had trouble understanding people who would choose a career in pedagogy. It took a minute to think of anything else to talk about. "What's your favorite ballet?"

" _Les Biches_. Do you know it?"

"No. Honestly, the only ballet I ever saw was The Nutcracker when I was a teenager because my parents dragged me to it, and all I could think about was how much work it must have been. It made my feet hurt just watching the dancers go up on their toes."

"It is a lot of work. Professional ballet dancers train for years. But it's an art, just like painting or music. They do it because it's how they express themselves. It's a passion."

"Did you ever dance professionally?" Agnes asked.

"No, but I wanted to. It's what I dreamed of being when I grew up. But...life took me in other directions." She glanced at Agnes. "What do you do?"

"Stock market," she answered. "I inherited some money from my parents, and got some more in my divorce, and I've been able to make a living from investments ever since."

The Milky Way Diner was sparsely furnished but clean, with whitewashed walls, concrete floor, and faux marble tabletops in the booths. They both ordered milkshakes—strawberry marshmallow for Agnes, mint white chocolate for Nat.

"So where are you from originally?" Nat asked.

"New York. You?"

"Ohio. What brought you to Connecticut, Agnes?"

"It's a funny story, actually…" Agnes launched into her manufactured background story, a carefully rehearsed lie about her husband showing up to the wrong job interview by accident, getting offered the job anyway, and eventually accepting a promotion that relocated them to Westview, which Agnes had disliked at first until small-town life started to grow on her. She knew once she cast the truth spell she wouldn't be able to directly lie, so she wanted to get her story out of the way first.

By the time she was done, their milkshakes had arrived. While Nat took her first taste, Agnes, hiding her hands out of sight under the table, performed the gestures combined with the carefully controlled thought patterns that triggered the spell.

"What do you think of it?" she asked.

"This really is the best milkshake I've ever tasted," Nat replied, sounding confused. She shook her head, then put her hand to her forehead.

"Brain freeze?"

"No." She dropped her hand and looked around. "I just… Can I ask you something that might sound crazy?"

"Of course."

"Do you have any problems with your memory?"

"No," she answered. Unlike literally everyone else in town, her memory was fine. "Why?"

"There are years of my life that I can't remember clearly, other than these flashes of memory that don't make sense. They seem so real, but no one else remembers them."

"Like what?"

"Well, for one thing…I remember that something terrible happened, but I don't know what. It was something huge. I thought Wanda and Vision were dead. I don't know how I got here."

It was going to be pretty hard to get Nat to talk about memories Wanda wouldn't know about if she had no clear memories of the Blip, Anges thought

"Sounds like some kind of really weird dream," she said. Which was true: it did sound like that.

"You're right. It couldn't have been real. Vision is still alive. Unless this is heaven," she speculated, eating a spoonful of her milkshake, not sounding either hyperbolic or particularly convinced one way or the other.

"Did you know Wanda or Vic before they met?" Agnes asked, trying to ease the conversation back to Natasha's past.

"Not really. I met Wanda once before they met, but it was kind of just in passing."

"Did you know them before they were married?"

"Yeah. We used to all work together. Back then they were just friends, but I wasn't surprised when they hooked up. They were always close."

"They seem truly happy together. Way different from my marriage. Have you ever been married?" Agnes asked, mindful that the spell was losing efficacy by the minute.

She scoffed slightly. "No."

"Not interested? Or have you just not met the right person?"

Nat looked like she was about to make a joke, then wavered. "There was this one guy…"

"Who?"

"A guy I used to work with. I thought we had a connection, but it didn't work out."

"What was he like?"

Her smile was lopsided and distracted, half sad. "He was really smart. A genius. But also just...adorably insecure. It was an intriguing combination. Most of the men I've known have been so full of swagger, big shots who always act like they have something to prove. He wasn't like that at all. Even though he was one of the smartest people I've ever met, he never thought that made him better than anyone else. He was gentle as a kitten most of the time. He had a problem with his temper, but I had a way of dealing with him. Sometimes I was the only one who could get through to him, and I was honestly pretty proud of that. It made me feel special. It made me feel like I was special to him."

_Bruce Banner._

That explained a lot.

"You had a way to get through to him when he lost his temper? How did you manage that?"

"We worked on this method—we called it the 'lullaby'. It wasn't actually a lullaby. Singing is one thing that's not in my skill set. We spent hours conditioning a response to a spoken combination of words and a particular tactile pattern, conditioning his psychosomatic circuits to calm when exposed to those stimuli."

"What were they?"

Nat seemed reluctant to answer, but after a few moments, she did. "'The Sun's getting real low'. That was the sentence. The tactile pattern was a combination of lines and taps on his wrist with the tip of my finger."

"Have you ever told Wanda that trick?"

Nat looked confused at the question. "No. There was never a reason too. I've never told anyone, for security reasons. I'm only telling you now because it's moot. It doesn't matter anymore. And I guess because I miss him."

"Why didn't it work out with him?" Agnes inquired.

"First I came on too strong and scared him off. I didn't see him for a couple of years after that. When I did see him again…" She paused, frowning, for a long moment. "I think it was after that terrible thing happened. I was really upset, and I took it out on him. He tried to comfort me, and I lashed out. I blamed him for it, for not being able to stop it. The look in his eyes...I hurt him so bad. As soon as he walked out, I knew I was wrong. I knew it wasn't his fault. But I couldn't face him. I...don't think I ever got the chance to tell him I'm sorry." She sipped at her milkshake, staring off out the window. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Sometimes when you need to get something off your chest, it's easier to talk to a stranger than someone who knows you," Agnes said. "I kind of get how you feel. There was a time when I thought I would never see my mother or my brother again, and it bugged me so much: all the things I'd never said to them, the times I'd taken advantage of them, or said things I only meant in the moment and never apologized for, that I didn't say 'I love you' to my mom the last time I talked to her, that I owed my brother seventy bucks I'd never really planned to pay back. All those little things."

She'd never told anyone about that, about the regrets that haunted her when she lost everyone she loved in the Snap. Goddamn truth spell.

"You said you thought you'd never see them again. I take it you did?"

"Yeah. I got that chance. And even though I stopped gushing about how much they mean to me every time I talked to them after about the first month, I'll never take them for granted again." She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry your guy didn't work out."

"I just wish I knew where he is now. I don't know if he's even still alive. I hope he's okay. I hope he's happy."

Agnes bit her lip. Even though the truth spell was weakening, and knowing about it made it easier to resist, it was so hard not to tell Nat that her crush was a few miles away, and was behind this meeting. But if she told Nat the truth, the consequences were just too unpredictable.

"Well, if I ever see him I'll tell him you send your regards," Agnes said, managing to make it sound like a joke.

Nat laughed, but her eyes still looked subdued. "Thanks for the milkshake. I'll buy next time."

"It was my pleasure."

As they walked out of the diner, Nat took Agnes's arm, her grip seemingly friendly but firm as steel. "You know, Agnes, I really hope you decide I'm someone you can confide in. Any friend of Wanda and Victor is someone worth getting to know better. I care about them a lot. If anything bad ever happened to them, I would find out who was responsible, and they would wish they were never born. Know what I mean?" she concluded with an amiable smile.

It was both the cheeriest and most credible death threat Agnes had ever received, and it shook her. She still hadn't decided whether she was talking to a real person or not, and she knew she couldn't be killed by someone targeting her projected form instead of her actual body, but with those words she could suddenly really believe she'd been talking to a ruthless assassin, and she had no idea how to deal with it. "Oh, absolutely," she said blandly.

Nat slipped away, leaving Agnes to ponder her threat.

She was glad she hadn't told Natasha the truth. Nat would kill to protect Wanda and Vision, and if Agnes succeeded in solving the mystery of this place, she might just have to destroy them both.


	22. Regretfully Yours

Thou wast all that to me, love,  
For which my soul did pine:  
A green isle in the sea, love,  
A fountain and a shrine,  
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,  
And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream too bright to last!  
Ah, starry Hope, that didst arise  
But to be overcast!  
A voice from out the Future cries,  
"On! On!"—but o'er the Past  
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies  
Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me  
The light of Life is o'er!  
No more—no more—no more—  
(Such language holds the solemn sea  
To the sand upon the shore)  
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,  
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,  
And all my nightly dreams  
Are where thy gray eye glances,  
And where thy footstep gleams—  
In what ethereal dances,  
By what eternal streams.

~Edgar Allen Poe, "To One in Paradise"

* * *

Bruce unlocked the door of his lab early one morning to find Agnes waiting for him.

"I kind of thought we had an unspoken rule that you wouldn't show up in my lab without checking with me first," he said.

"Should've made it spoken."

"Okay, now it's a spoken rule." He dropped the matter. In truth, he'd been anxiously waiting for her to show up for days. "Did you learn anything?"

"Your girlfriend is scary," she answered.

"My girlfriend?"

"She told me. Did you think she wouldn't?"

Agnes didn't sound annoyed. She sounded almost sympathetic.

"I wasn't sure. Whatever we had...it was a long time ago." That there had been something between him and Nat was a fact Wanda might well know. He had no idea how much Nat told her during their two years on the run. "What did she tell you? Did you bring me up, or did she?"

"I asked if she'd ever been married, trying to get her to talk about her past. She started talking about a guy she once knew who sounded like a pretty serious might've-been. No names mentioned, but she described you to a tee. Seems like she had it bad for you."

Bruce didn't know what to say to that. He thought about the time he and Nat had together, the hours and hours of training, her casual flirting that gradually grew more serious, the single kiss they'd shared.

When he had feared the sheer destructive power inside himself, there had been a handful of people who respected that power without fearing it: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, maybe Steve Rogers. And of those people, Nat was the only one he'd almost killed. That she'd been willing to work with and even valued Hulk after that meant more to him than he'd realized at the time. During his career with the Avengers—the happiest and most accepted he'd felt since his transformation—he'd come to think of her as a safe haven. He could let himself become the Hulk when he needed to knowing she'd be there to bring him back.

And he'd thrown that away.

"Maybe for a while, until I screwed it up," he said.

"She's pretty convinced that she's the one who screwed it up," Agnes said. "She said, under the truth spell, that she came on too strong and scared you away. And then after the Snap, she blamed you for it. She didn't mean it, and she felt terrible about it. She wishes she could tell you how sorry she is."

"She was right," he said quietly. "When we fought Thanos in Wakanda, Hulk wouldn't come out. I tried, but I just couldn't make it happen. Hulk might have turned the tide of the battle. We might have stopped Thanos right there. Nat knew that. That's why I performed the experiments to try to make the change permanent, so that the next time someone like that threatened the world, I wouldn't fail again."

"She knows it wasn't your fault. What she doesn't know is that you reversed the Snap." Agnes moved on. "She does vaguely remember the Snap. At least she's convinced something cataclysmic happened, which is more than anyone else I've talked to in Westview remembers. Part of her is fighting it. She told me the two of you had something called the lullaby?"

Bruce stared at her. That wouldn't have been something Nat was likely to tell anyone else about. "Yes. What did she say about it?"

"That she conditioned you to relax when she said the phrase 'The Sun's getting real low'."

Bruce bit his lip. His thumb traced over his wrist where she used to run her finger to calm Hulk down. He was suddenly precariously close to tears. "It's her," he managed to say. "I don't know how it's possible, but that's really Nat."

"I think you're right," Agnes admitted. "Which means Vision is somehow the real Vision, which makes this whole thing way more complicated."

Because if Wanda had somehow brought Vision and Natasha's souls back to some kind of corporeal form in her own private universe...

If he could find a way to reintegrate Westview with the rest of the world, could he bring himself to do it knowing it could end Nat's life, again?


	23. Birthday

…

The doctor trying again to find you, fragile  
fern, snowflake. Nothing.  
After, my wife will say, in fear,

impatient, she went beyond her body,  
this tiny room, into the ether—  
for now, we spelunk for you one last time

lost canary, miner of coal  
and chalk, lungs not yet black—  
I hold my wife’s feet to keep her here—

and me—trying not to dive starboard  
to seek you in the dark water.  
…

~Kevin Young, from "Expecting"

* * *

It was just after midnight when Wanda suddenly sat up in bed. The moonlight through the window showed her face contorted in what looked like a scream, but the sound that came out was a high-pitched squeak.

"Wanda, are you all right?" Vision asked anxiously, sitting up beside her.

She breathed heavily for a few seconds before answering. "I've been having cramps for a few hours, but that was much stronger. I think I'm in labor. I think they're coming."

"You're not due for two weeks."

"Twins tend to come early."

Vision called Nat, who said she'd be over in ten minutes. They had decided to have the babies at home, to avoid the hospital unless there was any sign of complications, not knowing if Wanda's powers might manifest during labor. And, though they didn't say it in so many words, they were aware the children of a witch and a synthezoid might not look like usual babies. In preparation for the home delivery, Vision had read literally every book the town's library and bookshop carried on midwifery.

He laid towels down on the bed, and made a pile of pillows behind Wanda to make her more comfortable. She would be alright for a few minutes, then a contraction would strike, and she would wince and gasp in pain, and Vision would ask if there was anything else he could do to help her. She would shake her head.

But the contractions became increasingly painful.

"I'm glad we're having twins, because I am never doing this again," she said between panting breaths.

"Should I call Dr. Ramos?" he asked.

"No. We agreed we would do this ourselves. Ahhhhhhh!" She screamed as the worst contraction yet hit. She grasped Vision's hand tightly. When it finally passed, she said, "Call Dr. Ramos."

He did, waking her up, but she said she would come right away.

Nat arrived first. "How's she doing?"

"She is in terrible pain."

"I hear that's normal."

Wanda's face was flushed and covered in sweat, but she managed a strained smile. "Nat, thank you for coming."

"How are you feeling?" she asked, taking her hand.

"I've been worse."

"Seriously?"

"HYDRA's experiments hurt worse than this. That's...that's the only one I can think of. Other than losing Pietro and my parents. That was a different kind of pain. There are so many different kinds of pain." She screamed then, squeezing Nat's hand so tight her fingers turned white.

Dr. Ramos arrived minutes later, carrying two cases of medical equipment. She took a look at Wanda's dilation.

"It won't be long now," she assured her. "You're almost there."

"Thank God," Wanda replied.

While Nat gave Wanda support, Vision brought in some fresh towels.

"I feel so helpless," he admitted.

"You sure you want to be here for this?" Dr. Ramos asked. "She's going to get grouchy."

She'd been joking, but Wanda panicked at the suggestion. "No. Vizh, don't abandon me. I need you!"

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

"Hold my hands. Don't let go. Whatever happens."

Vision held Wanda's right hand while Nat gripped her left hand.

Vision couldn't take his eyes off her face, her expression alternating between intense pain and complete exhaustion. Her breathing was heavy and frantic.

As the labor pains intensified, she squeezed Vision and Nat's hands harder. A red glow gathered around her hands, and head, especially her eyes.

Dr. Ramos looked startled at the strange red light, but didn't say anything.

Vision stroked Wanda's damp hair back from her forehead. "Wanda, I know you are in pain, but you are not in danger. There is no one here to fight. You are bringing our children into the world."

As he spoke in a soothing voice to her, her eyes fixed on him. "It hurts so much. When will it be over?"

"Soon."

"Your body is going to start telling you to push," Dr Ramos commented.

"It is. It's telling me."

"Good. It's time to push."

She made a sound somewhere between a scream and a growl, her face scrunched up, turning red.

Vision tried to stay calm, tried not to think about the many, many things that could go wrong, tried not to remember that having twins increased the risk of complications during labor. Uterine rupture, embolism, hemorrhage.

He tried to put these possibilities from his mind. She needed him to stay calm, to help her relax and keep her powers in check.

"The baby's crowning," Dr. Ramos announced. "You're doing great."

Once the first baby's head emerged, the rest of the body nearly popped out. Dr. Ramos wrapped it in a soft towel, cleaning it off. "He was in a hurry."

"It's a boy?" Vision asked.

"It's a boy."

As Dr. Ramos cleaned off the baby's face, he drew a loud, long breath, then set loose a piercing cry.

Wanda smiled and laughed breathily.

"Sounds healthy," Nat commented.

While Wanda rested for a few minutes, Vision held their baby, their son. He was afraid he'd hold too tight. The newborn was so small, and seemed so fragile. It didn't seem real. He rocked him gently, talking softly to him. The baby stopped crying after a couple of minutes.

Wanda began to push again. She delivered a placenta. The sight of the dark red mass frightened Vision until he realized what it was.

"One to go," Dr. Ramos said encouragingly.

"Something's wrong," Wanda said. "The baby feels wrong."

Dr. Ramos examined the birth canal and felt around Wanda's abdomen. She frowned.

"What is it?" Nat demanded.

"We should get to the hospital."

"Why?" Vision asked, his heart sinking.

"She's going to need a C-section."

"Why?" Nat repeated Vision's question, more forcefully.

"The baby's sideways in the uterus. The shoulder and head are wedged between the pubic bones. I can't reach it to reposition it."

Vision felt himself begin to panic. Obstructed labor; he knew from his readings how dangerous this was. The baby could asphyxiate, and Wanda could easily hemorrhage.

His beloved, beautiful, powerful wife who had survived so much could die this very night.

He couldn't remember ever being so afraid in his life.

"How much time do we have?" Nat asked.

Dr. Ramos hesitated for a second and a half before saying only, "We need to go now."

Vision handed the firstborn to Nat and moved to lift Wanda to carry her to the car, but before he could she grabbed his arm.

"Vizh, help me."

"We're going to take you to the hospital."

She shook her head. "Not enough time. You need to do it."

He froze as he realized what she meant. "I don't want to risk hurting you."

"You can do this, Vizh. I know it. Save our baby."

He nodded. He moved to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Ramos asked in confusion with a trace of alarm.

"Stay back," Nat ordered her.

Vision phased his hands through Wanda's skin, into her uterus, where he solidified the tips of his fingers. He felt the baby, felt its back, its shoulders, the angle where its neck was bent. He gently pushed it back and upward, straightening its body and easing its head toward the birth canal. He withdrew his hands, hoping it wasn't too late.

From the corner of his eye he could see Dr. Ramos staring at him, speechless.

Wanda arched her back and groaned. Her legs spread wider, and the baby crowned.

Dr. Ramos shook off her astonishment and jumped to action. She eased the baby out.

The cry was the most relieving sound Vision had ever heard.

"It's another boy," Dr. Ramos said, laughing in relief.

* * *

They took Wanda to the hospital to make sure there was no internal hemorrhaging.

Vision kept watch over the twins as they slept in bassinets.

Nat stood next to him.

"They look like you," she said. "They're almost as red."

They had the typical livid hue of human newborns. He smiled at her joke. "They are beautiful. I have never seen anything more beautiful."

"Are you serious? They look like naked molerats with mange," Nat joked. She added, more quietly and no longer joking. "You saved your son's life, you know. Probably Wanda's too."

He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think of how precarious life was, and how close he'd come to losing Wanda. He hated himself for not insisting she give birth in a hospital. He'd known twin deliveries had a higher chance of complications, and he knew obstructed labor was more common in women who had suffered childhood malnutrition, as Wanda had. Part of him just hadn't believed anything bad could possibly happen to her.

Dr. Ramos walked up to them. "The new mother is in the recovery room. She'll be fine."

"Thank God," Vision breathed. "Can I see her?"

"Of course. We need to make sure the babies can nurse."

As they headed toward the recovery room, Vision walked close to Dr. Ramos. "If I might have a word about…anything unusual you may have seen last night."

"Anything I may have seen is covered by doctor-patient confidentiality. Your secrets are safe with me."

"Thank you."

"But I might call you in someday if I have an emergency I think you could help with."

"As long as our anonymity is respected, Wanda and I are both at your service."

They took the twins to the recovery room and placed them in Wanda's arms. She smiled, though even that smile looked like it took an inordinate amount of effort in her exhaustion.

"I love you."

"I love you too. So much," he replied.

Wanda turned to Nat. "Thank you for being here."

"It's an honor," she assured her. "And this experience has made me realize that I'm actually completely okay with never having children of my own, so thanks for that."

Wanda laughed weakly, and ran her hand over the back of one of her son's heads.

Nat bid them goodbye. Once Dr. Ramos ascertained both newborns could eat, she also departed, leaving the new parents alone with their children for the first time.

Wanda gazed at him, her eyes tired but full of love. "We did it."

"You did it," he replied, staring at her in awe.

" _We_ did it," she repeated. "Look at our sons."

"They are wonderful. You are wonderful."

She sighed tiredly.

It seemed absurd to Vision at the moment how little respect human societies gave mothers. How could the effort and the danger and the magic of this act of creation be so easily ignored?

As he gazed at his sleeping sons and their mother, he vowed to himself that he would never for a moment forget all that Wanda had done to bring them into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone reading this who has actually given birth may notice I have no clue what I'm talking about, for which I apologize. I did research for this chapter, but I couldn't find information on such things as whether diamniotic placentas in twin births are delivered after the babies or if one gets delivered between the babies, or if it varies. Honestly, childbirth seems like the stuff of horror movies to me. No one should be forced or expected to go through it, and anyone who chooses to has earned my deep respect.


	24. The Snowglobe

What is your  
Original Nature,  
Snowman?

~Natsume Soseki, from _The Little Book of Zen_ , ed. Manuela Dunn Mascetti

* * *

Bruce met Agnes in his lab. It had already been a very long day, and he was hoping she had any good news.

"How's it going inside?" he asked.

"Well, Wanda and Vision had their babies. Two boys. They named them William and Thomas. Can you believe that? It's like they're trying to fit in by picking the most boring names they could think of. Did you know the name 'Thomas' just means 'twin'? They pretty much named their sons 'William and the Other One'."

"The babies are healthy and...normal?"

"Oh yeah. Completely average, unremarkable human babies. Their parents are absolutely thrilled."

"How is Nat?" Bruce asked quietly.

"She's great. She's pretty busy with all her classes."

"She's taking classes?"

"Teaching them. She's teaching ballet, various martial arts, and private tutoring in French, Russian, and Japanese."

He hoped she wasn't as strict an instructor with civilians as she had been with the Avengers. "Is she liking it?"

"She seems to be. I've walked in on her giving a lesson. I got the impression she was drilling her own private army, and that was _ballet._ "

So about the same as her teaching style with the Avengers.

"And she spends a lot of her free time with the twins. She's their godmother."

Bruce swallowed, remembering the defeated, resigned look in her eyes when she'd told him the Red Room had robbed her of the choice to have children. Maybe Wanda's world was providing her what she wanted, too. "Have you uncovered anything more about what's causing the phenomenon?"

"Not really," Agnes answered. "But...it's weird. Westview looked like something out of a 1950s TV show for years, but now it's taken on more of a '60s vibe. I don't know what caused the change. Maybe Wanda just got tired of how things were and wanted an update. Overnight, the styles of cars, houses, and clothes just changed, but no one said anything about it. It was like I was the only one who could see it. Which, to be fair, is how it's felt the whole time I've been in Westview, but having a secret you can't tell anyone gets seriously old after a while."

"Yeah. I wouldn't know anything about that. It's not like I was on the run for years not letting anyone know I might turn into a big green rage monster any moment."

Agnes laughed.

"Anyway," Bruce said, "one secret is out. A reporter managed to get through S.W.O.R.D.'s security perimeter and take some photos. Since S.W.O.R.D. is technically a secret organization, and Darcy and I are technically not part of it, we've been designated the spokespeople for this investigation, so we've been spending the past few days giving interviews, trying to jargon our way out of admitting that we still have no real idea what's going on. Darcy told reporters we know the people in Westview are still alive. When they asked how she knew, she on the spot made up that we have a gravitational detector sensitive enough to tell there are human-sized objects moving around inside the perimeter of the energy field. The thing is, as soon as she said it I realized that just might be feasible, so we're trying to design it."

"Wow. So you're basically inventing a new technology to retroactively legitimize her bullshit. Have you told Darcy about our meetings?"

"No. I promised Strange I wouldn't tell anyone unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Thanks, but since it seems less and less likely we can figure this out on our own, 'necessary' might be coming up quick. I know for you this thing has lasted a few months, but for me it's been years. I'm going years between hearing from my family, even though for them I'm calling about every week. I'm spending years at a time pretending I'm someone I'm not, with no one to talk to about it. I'm not saying I can't do this for much longer, but, honestly, I'd rather not."

"I'm sorry. I know how much that sucks."

"Here's a thought. We could just let Westview be. You say the energy field isn't growing or changing, so it doesn't seem to be threatening the rest of the world. Everyone in there is happy. Why not just let Wanda have her own private snowglobe village, and the rest of us can move on with our lives."

That idea had crossed his mind, usually in the middle of sleepless nights. It would mean Nat would survive, even if he could never see her again.

 _If_ he could never see her again. The thought had occurred to him that if Monica Rambeau could cross the barrier into Westview and survive, surely he could.

"Have you suggested that to Strange?"

Agnes sighed. "No. And he'd definitely veto that plan. Power of this scale, we need to figure out what's causing it, for everyone's safety."

"But...I mean, there's Natasha and Vision. They might not be able to exist outside the pocket dimension. And the babies...whatever they are, whatever they're made from...those are lives worth considering too."

"We don't even know if they're real," she pointed out.

"But, ethically, we should assume that they are, and act accordingly," he said.

She flopped her head back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah," she said, sounding defeated. "Deciding the right thing to do would be so much easier if I could go on convincing myself they're not real. If I didn't care about them."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Want a drink?"

"God yes."


	25. Retrospection

This was the White of the Year—  
That—was in the Green—  
Drifts were as difficult then to think  
As Daisies now to be seen—

Looking back is best that is left  
Or if it be—before—  
Retrospection is Prospect’s half,  
Sometimes, almost more.

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

The twins were playing in the snow with their father and Nat. They had built a couple of snowmen and a snow wall, and now they were throwing snowballs at each other. Vision's snowballs were loosely packed and irregular, and always missed their target. Nat's were perfectly round and never missed. Tommy and Billy were pretty good shots for four-year-olds.

Wanda smiled at them out the window as she heated hot cocoa on the stove.

The twins weren't identical, though they were obviously brothers. Billy resembled Vision more, both in looks and personality, though Vision insisted he saw more of Wanda in both children. Other people said Tommy resembled her, but she couldn't look at him without being reminded of Pietro at his age.

This was a perfect moment: the children's wild laughter as they played, gentle snowflakes drifting down from a beautiful pale gray sky, the cheerful sound of Johnny Mathis singing "Sleigh Ride" playing from the radio, a soft red glow from lights from their Christmas tree in the living room making the house feel warmer than it was. It was their first year having a Christmas tree. Wanda hadn't cared much about the holiday season since her parents died—it had been a time of year she associated with bitter cold, wastefulness, and people around the world enjoying things she would never have—but now that she had children of her own she wanted to make it magical for them. And Vision loved everything about the holidays.

As she turned off the heat and sprinkled marshmallows into the hot cocoa, Vision came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said, grinning in spite of herself.

"I phased through the door rather than let cold air in unnecessarily."

Her smile faded. "You have to be careful. Someone might have seen you."

"Other than Natasha and the boys, no one was near enough to see me."

They had agreed that there was no need to hide their powers from the twins while they were young enough that anything they said could be chalked up to the vivid imagination of children, and when they were old enough to begin to realize other daddies didn't have red faces at home and other mommies didn't levitate vegetables into their children's mouths, they would tell them the truth and teach them the importance of keeping secrets sometimes.

"You're right. I just get worried," Wanda said.

Their old lives were so long ago, the memories so faded and indistict, that when she thought back it felt like someone else's life, like everyone she'd known then, including herself, were people she'd read about in a novel. But sometimes she still feared that someone would find them, that someone would recognize them, that Tommy and Billy would be taken away and experimented on. Sometimes she talked to Vision about these fears, especially if a nightmare woke her up, and he would assure her they would never let that happen. And he was right, of course.

She smiled again, watching out the window as Tommy and Billy looked at each other, grinned, and wordlessly teamed up against Nat, running after her as fast as their tiny legs could carry them, and she pretended her foot was stuck so they could catch up to her and smear her with tiny fistfuls of snow.

"Could you go tell them the hot chocolate is ready?" Wanda asked Vision.

"Just one moment." He turned her around and kissed her.

It was so rare that they got a moment of privacy before the twin's bedtime these days that a deep, passionate kiss in the daylight felt like a novel and slightly illicit experience, and Wanda melted. She had to grip Vision's coat to keep from falling over.

After a minute, they finally drew apart. "Do you ever feel like your life is just perfect?" she asked.

"Every day I'm with you," he replied, caressing a strand of hair behind her ear.

He left to bring the twins in—remembering to open the door at the last minute, which made Wanda laugh.

She began ladling the hot cocoa into mugs. Alone with her thoughts in the kitchen once again, she reflected that this life—two happy sons, an adoring and breathtakingly handsome husband, a few close friends, a home to live in, jobs that kept them stimulated and provided enough to live comfortably, though by no means lavishly—was the perfect life for her. The pain, fear, hate, deprivation, vengeance, danger, and loss that still echoed from her distant past made her acutely aware of how much she loved a life of peace, quiet, comfort, and love—all things she, back then, couldn't have imagined she would ever have. Other people might think it boring. Those people had no clue.


	26. Intrusion

No one will come to this deep valley of green hills and blue water.  
There is no need to sweep the flower paths and shut the bushclover gate.  
Hark, the puppy barks from below; the clouds warn of a visitor from the human world.

~Anonymous, from _Love in Mid-Winter: Korean Sijo Poetry_ , trans. Chung Chong-wha

* * *

It began as a normal day. Wanda dropped Vision off at the college and the twins off at the elementary school, then she stopped by the fabric store and the grocery store before heading home.

When she walked into her house, she stepped on a note that had been shoved under the door. She frowned, wondering who had left it there. She unfolded it, then dropped it with a yelp like it had burned her as soon as she saw the words at the top.

_Wanda Maximoff..._

No one but Vision, Nat, and Dr. Ramos should have known who she really was, and this wasn't their handwriting.

Heart pounding, she picked the note back up, unfolded it, and made herself read.

_Wanda Maximoff,_

_Meet me at the corner of Eltonhead Road and Chestnut Lane._

_Come alone._

_Tell no one._

She paced for several minutes, wondering what to do. She wrote a note for Vision and left it with the original note in their bedroom.

Whoever wrote that note, she had to find out what they knew.

Eltonhead Road was beyond the edge of town, past farm houses, orchards, and a cow pasture, not far from the highway. She parked at the side of the road and stepped out of her car.

"I'm here," she said to the cluster of trees where someone might be hiding, prepared to immediately engage her power at the sound of a gunshot or any other threat.

A woman walked out from behind an ivy-covered tree.

Wanda didn't know who she'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been Jane Foster's graduate student. She'd only met the young woman a couple of times. They'd never talked more than the exchanging of pleasantries.

"Hi. You're Monica, right?"

"Monica Rambeau," she said.

"Have you been waiting long?" Wanda asked, not knowing what else to say.

"I figured you'd show up sooner or later, Ms. Maximoff."

The use of that name brought back the anxiety she'd felt when she first saw the note. "How do you know that name?"

"I used to work for Director Fury, a long time ago. I know about your powers, I know how you got your powers, and I know what you're doing now. You need to stop it."

"Stop what?" she asked, confused. 

"This. Westview. You need to free Westview. Keeping an entire town in your thrall is wrong, and you know it. You used to be an Avenger; you're better than this."

She thought Wanda was doing something to Westview? That made no sense. "What are you talking about?"

"You've turned this town into a prison for your own purposes. It's not worth it."

Wanda shook her head. "I don't know where you're getting this from. I haven't done anything."

"You expect me to believe that? It took me years to figure out it was you controlling the Infinity Stones."

_The Infinity Stone?_

Impossible. She'd buried them so deep no one could reach them, other than the Mind Stone in Vision's head. How could Monica even know about them? Wanda hadn't told _anyone_ , not even Vision and Nat.

"The Infinity Stones were destroyed," she said. "Thanos destroyed them all."

Monica stared at her. "And now they're back. Which you know. They're too dangerous for you to control. They're too powerful for anyone to control. You _have_ to _stop._ "

"To stop _what?_ " Wanda shouted. "I'm not doing anything! I'm not imprisoning anyone! I would never do that!"

"Then why can't anyone leave? This, right here," she pointed behind her, "is as far out of town as anyone can go. No one has left or arrived in years. I have tried so hard to find a way out."

"Okay, you're wrong. I just bought oranges and bananas at the grocery this morning. Those don't grow around here, so if no one comes to town, how did they get here?"

"They just appear. No one notices. No one sees. You have everyone brainwashed to look the other way. I have to write down everything I know every single night to keep from forgetting, to keep from losing track of my mission here. You have to free us. Your husband and children aren't worth this."

Wanda stared at her. "What do they have to do with it?"

"They're how I figured out you were behind this. Your sons are the only people in this town who age. You need to stop controlling the town and take down the barrier, or I'm going to tell everyone the truth. I'll keep telling them until they can see it too."

"I can't stop anything," Wanda insisted, feeling more frantic with each passing moment. "You would...ruin my husband's life, our children's lives, to...to tell people this paranoid fantasy of yours that I'm somehow controlling everyone?"

Monica looked at her incredulously. "Ruining what lives? They're not real."

Wanda shook her head, stunned. "What? What do you mean they're not real?"

"You created them."

"Of course I created my sons. I'm their mother. But I didn't create my husband. That's crazy."

Monica shook her head. "Vision is dead. Your twins never existed."

How could she say that? How could anyone say such a horrible thing? She saw them, talked to them, looked into their eyes, sensed their souls every day.

"They're real. They..." Her throat closed up. She couldn't even argue against something so horrible.

"They're not. You've enthralled an entire town, warping reality and controlling people's minds just so you could pretend to have a family. You're deluding yourself, and you need to let them go."

"They're real," Wanda repeated helplessly.

"They're just illusion you're controlling," Monica said. "And if you don't end them, I will."

The threat was too much. Wanda's power boiled over and burst out of her beyond her control, just like the sharp _"No!"_ she screamed at the same second. A wave of red energy crashed into Monica, who went flying backward.

"No!" Wanda cried again as she realized what she had just done. She tried stop it, tried to levitate Monica down gently, but in a second, she disappeared from view. One instant she'd been flying through the air, and the next it was like she'd blinked out of existence.

Wanda stared at the empty sky, gasping, heart pounding. She hadn't meant to do it. It had been an instict, to protect Vision and their sons. Monica was going to expose them, possibly try to kill them.

But...had she been right about the Infinity Stones? Was Wanda still using their power without knowing it? Had she somehow used them to make Monica Rambeau disappear?

But Monica was wrong about Tommy and Billy, and Vision. They were real. They were safe here, and Wanda was going to keep them safe, at any cost. And that meant she had to make sure no one connected Monica's disappearance to her.

She had to get home and burn that note.

* * *

Monica flew backward through the energy barrier. She could feel the energy field reach inside her. She felt like the red forcefield of Wanda's lingering power enveloping her was the only thing stopping it from tearing her apart.

The sky blinked from daylight to night. She flew through cold air, and then hit the ground hard.

She blinked her eyes, seeing people run toward her, silhouetted by floodlights.

Her plan had worked better than she'd anticipated.

She hadn't expected to survive it.


	27. Illumination

There's a certain Slant of light,  
Winter Afternoons—  
That oppresses, like the Heft  
Of Cathedral Tunes—

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—  
We can find no scar,  
But internal difference,  
Where the Meanings, are—

None may teach it—Any—  
'Tis the Seal Despair—  
An imperial affliction  
Sent us of the Air—

When it comes, the Landscape listens—  
Shadows—hold their breath—  
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance  
On the look of Death—

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

Bruce jogged alongside the stretcher transporting Monica Rambeau to the on-site infirmary. He'd heard she'd appeared conscious for a minute after being flung out of the Westview energy barrier. She hadn't been responsive by the time he'd gotten there. She could have a concussion, broken bones, or internal bleeding.

Agent Danbury followed behind the medical team with his cellphone to his ear, giving Fury a running update.

"Heartrate is 150 bpm," Bruce said, counting her pulse for ten seconds and extrapolating.

"You know what this means, right?" Darcy said excitedly from behind him. "This proves people are still alive in there."

"Those aren't the clothes she was wearing when she went in," Agent Woo noted.

"What was she wearing when she went in?" Bruce asked

Agent Danbury paused his conversation on the phone to answer, "Full all-conditions protective gear, with an oxygen tank and mounted cameras." Putting the phone back to his ear, he said, "Heartrate is 150. She's wearing clothing she must have gotten inside."

"Anyone who's not a medical professional needs to wait outside," said the head physician, Dr. Nekara, as they wheeled the patient into the infirmary.

"You heard him," Bruce said, physically stopping Danbury, Woo, and Darcy from following them through the doors.

"When she wakes up can you ask her about Jane?" Darcy requested.

They hooked Monica up to a life support monitor.

"There's something sewn into her pants," one of the attendants said as they cut away her clothes to assess her injuries.

"Let me see that," Bruce said.

There was a small satchel containing microfilm. They also found a envelope stuffed with papers sewn to the inside of her shirt. The envelope was addressed to "Nick Fury or current head of SWORD."

"She knew she might not make it," Bruce noted.

"Vitals are stabilizing."

The x-rays were the first indication that something had gone horribly weird.

"What the..."

At the x-ray technician's befuddled exclamation, Bruce stepped over to take a look. "What is it? Ohhh."

Dr. Nekara glanced at the x-rays and did a double take.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Bruce asked.

He shook his head. "No."

The x-ray images showed Monica Rambeau's body as a solid mass of light, edged with a wispy corona.

"The Geiger counter is showing unusual levels of radioactivity," the technician reported. "What could be causing this?"

Bruce looked at the patient and saw her _glitch_. for a second, her body flickered, seemingly losing cohesion and becoming a blur of brightness before settling back to normal. It happened again, flashing bright enough to light up the room.

"What's happening?"

"I think everyone who isn't immune to radiation should probably leave the room until we get to the bottom of this," Bruce suggested.

Dr. Nekara checked Monica's vitals before nodding. "Agreed."

Bruce handed off the microfilm and envelope to Dr. Nekara. "Give these to Dr. Lewis."

When everyone else had cleared out of the room, Bruce commenced trying to figure out what was happening to Agent Rambeau. He tried to take an x-ray of her arm, but the film began developing even before her turned the machine on. He shone an ultraviolet light over her clothes to check for foreign particulates, and after turning it off noticed his lab coat fluorescing when he walked up to her. He took a photo of a fresh tattoo on her hip that seemed to be of an astrophysics function describing something similar to the event horizon of a black hole, and seconds later her skin lit up with the same brightness as the camera's flash. Additional tests using a laser supported his developing hypothesis: somehow, her body was absorbing and subsequently emitting electromagnetic waves. When he used stronger waves, like intense light or x-rays, her body seemed to almost verge on transforming into light.

Traveling through the wall of extradimensional energy between the pocket dimension and their own should have killed her, but instead it had changed her.

Bruce stared at her, wondering what she could do if she survived, woke up, and learned to harness that power. He wanted to talk to her, a kindred spirit.

He shut off all lights in the room but the indicators on the life-support monitor and a spectrometer, and watched the energy being emitted from her body gradually fade and her vitals return to normal. He confirmed that she was no longer unusually radioactive.

He stepped out of the room to find Dr. Nekara and the rest of the medical team.

"She's stable for now, but I want to transport her to my lab for some tests."

"What do you think her chances of recovery are?" Dr. Nekara asked.

"I don't know. She went right through an extradimensional energy field with no protection, which...there's no way to predict what kind of effects that would have. But I don't think she's injured so much as...altered."

* * *

Monica woke up in some kind of lab. She sat up slowly and looked around, quickly spotting the only other person in the room. He was hard to miss.

He noticed her movement and came to her.

"Agent Rambeau. I'm guessing you know who I am."

"Unless someone else has turned themself into a green mass of muscles in a labcoat while I've been gone, you're Bruce Banner," she answered. "You saved the universe from Thanos."

"A lot of people worked together to stop Thanos. My part in it was really pretty small." He cleared his throat. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine. I'm a little sore," she admitted. "Who are you working for? Is Fury still alive?"

"I'm working for S.W.O.R.D. at present, and yes. Fury's on his way. But when I ask how you feel...Look, I know you're tough. You don't need to prove that. But you went through an extradimensional energy field. There are... It looks like there might be some side-effects. How do you _feel_?"

She began to really evaluate her internal state. She stared at her hands, trying to figure out what she was feeling. Something was different. Her insides felt...she couldn't quite pin it down. Unstable, like chills, not exactly unpleasant but definitely not normal. "Like something's flowing through me."

Bruce nodded. "I'd like to try something. Can you hold up your hand?"

She did, and he turned a laser pointer on it.

"I can feel the light," she realized.

He turned the laser off, and they both saw her hand flash with the same red glow for a second.

"My initial observations while you were unconscious...lead me to the hypothesis that your body is absorbing electromagnetic waves, storing them, and, in a way, becoming them."

"Is it dangerous?"

He shook his head slightly. "I don't know. This is unprecedented; there's no way to know if it's permanent. Or...terminal."

He didn't know if this weird ability was killing her. "Thank you for being forthright, Dr. Banner," she said sincerely.

"You can call me Bruce. I kind of know what it's like. After the accident that first turned me into Hulk, I was terrified. I didn't know what I was capable of, or if I was dying. I'm guessing you're going through something similar, or you're going to, when it sinks in. I wish I could give you all the answers, but I can promise you won't go through it alone."

She stared at her hand.

She'd joined S.W.O.R.D. because she wanted to push the boundaries of the known, and out of a hope she could work with enhanced people like Carol and the Avengers. She hadn't imagined she might become one. Whatever was happening to her, she wanted to explore it, to help study it and understand it, for as long as she could. And Bruce Banner was probably the most qualified person in the world to help her do that.

"Thank you."

"So far, you're taking this a lot better than I did. I mean, I get it: you're an agent of S.W.O.R.D., which is a dangerois line of work, and...with the letter, the microfilm, and your new tattoo... You weren't expecting to get through that alive, were you?"

"I knew—”

She was interrupted by a chime.

"Hold on a sec." Bruce stood to open the door.

Fury, Carol, and a woman Monica didn't know walked in.

"Danvers!" Bruce exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

She ignored him, rushing toward Monica. She jumped up to give her a hug. "Aunt Carol!"

"Hey Lieutenant Trouble. I was in the neighborhood when Fury called to tell me you were back. You had me worried."

"You know each other?" Bruce asked in confusion.

"Sorry I made you worry," Monica said. She looked past her. "Fury..."

"Good to have you back, Rambeau."

She frowned, confused. "You don't look like you've aged a day."

Bruce raised a finger. "I...have a hypothesis that time inside the bubble universe isn't lining up with regular time. Agent Rambeau, you disappeared into the energy field ten months ago. How long did it seem to you inside?"

Ten months? It had only been ten months?

"About twenty years," she answered.

"Twenty years?" Carol repeated. "You've aged well."

"No one ages in there. No one except... Let me start from the beginning. Fury, have you read my letter?"

"I haven't had the chance yet."

The other woman spoke up. "I tried to look at your microfilms, but they got overexposed traveling through the energy field. I can tell there's mathematical equations in them, but I couldn't make out what they are."

"Agent Rambeau, this is Dr. Darcy Lewis. I've been helping her try to figure out the Westview Phenomenon," Bruce introduced her.

"Darcy? Professor Foster talks about you sometimes."

Her eyes widened. "You know Jane?"

"Yeah. Really well. She was my graduate thesis advisor. She's why I'm here." Monica sat down and took a breath. She looked up at Fury. "The first thing to know about the Westview Phenomenon is that Wanda Maximoff is controlling it."

"Yeah, we've pieced together that much," he said.

"But we haven't been able to figure out how she's causing it," Bruce added. "The amount of power it takes to create a bubble dimension shouldn't be possible, even for her."

"She has Infinity Stones," Monica stated.

She was met with stunned silence. Bruce's jaw dropped.

"That's impossible," he said. "Thanos destroyed the Infinity Stones."

"I know. Professor Foster figured it out. It took her years to figure it out, and it took me years of studying her research to understand it. The Infinity Stones are singularities..."

"Like black holes," Bruce said. "That's what that function you got tattooed is describing."

Monica nodded. "These singularities warped the spacetime continuum around them. When they were destroyed, it caused instability in the fabric of the universe itself. The force manifolds they created were still there, but with nothing to anchor them. Jane called them 'ghost singularities'. When one or more ghost singularities come inside another's event horizon, it can resurrect that singularity. It's like they want to exist. Or, more accurately, the universe wants them to exist."

"But none of the Infinity Stones were ever in Westview, right? How could these ghost singularities show up there?" Darcy wondered.

"It took me a long time to figure that part out," Monica said. "But once I did, it was obvious: people are also part of the fabric of the universe. Anyone who spends a significant amount of time around an Infinity Stone is going to be imprinted by it. Wanda Maximoff got her powers from the Mind Stone, so when she came in contact with Jane Foster..."

"The Ether!" Darcy gasped. When Bruce and Carol stared at her, she clarified, "The Reality Stone. Jane had it inside her for a while. Long story."

Monica nodded. She'd known about that from S.H.I.E.L.D. records. "Wanda Maximoff is using the Reality Stone to create her pocket dimension, and the Mind Stone to control the thoughts of the people living there."

"What has she used the Reality Stone to make?" Fury asked.

"Other than the barrier around the town, she's created entire buildings. Westview didn't have a college before, but it does now. Even though it's been cut off from the outside world for years, it never runs out of food or water or any other commodity. She's even created people: Natasha Romanov, the Vision, and two children. Her children are the only people in the town who age. She wants to watch them grow up. That's how I figured out it was her, and how I got out. I asked her to meet me as close to the barrier as I could get, and I told her what I know. I figured I could either talk some sense into her or she would kill me and dump my body outside the barrier. That's why I had the letter and the microfilm. Instead I got her mad enough that she just blasted me out of her universe." She didn't mention that when it became clear she wasn't going to talk Wanda into stopping the phenomenon, she'd threatened her children to try to get her worked up enough to throw her through the barrier.

Bruce started pacing agitatedly, rubbing his forehead. "It's not just the Mind Stone and the Reality Stone. The first energy burst was right after she got to Westview, when she was with Clint Barton. Clint Barton, who got the Soul Stone when we were trying to stop Thanos. She's got the Soul Stone."

"And the Space Stone," Carol said. "Last time I was in Westview, there was an explosion centered on me. That was the Space Stone coming back into existence."

"That means she's got four Infinity Stones," Bruce said. "The closer they are to each other, the more powerful they become. This is crazy. With the kind of power she has right now, Wanda could rule, destroy, or reacreate the _galaxy_. And she's using it to play house and make a town be nice to her. It's like if a genie popped out of a bottle and gave you three wishes, and you used your first wish to get a pretty good candy bar, and then couldn't think of any more wishes. The power she has access to right now and the fact that she's barely using it... It's honestly both inspiring and terrifying."

Monica had thought Wanda only had two Infinity Stones, and that had terrified her. Even one was too much power for any one person to be entrusted with. That she had _four..._

"Well, damn," Fury said.

Carol was staring at the floor, chewing her lip in deep thought.

"One thing doesn't make sense," Bruce said. "Wanda was staying with Clint Barton for months. That was two people carrying the signatures of two Infinity Stones. Why didn't they manifest until they went to Westview?"

Carol had the answer. "Because there was already another one in Westview, so once they got there, there were three ghost singularities in each other's orbits. Mary-Jo."

"Who?" Darcy asked.

"Who's Mary-Jo?" Bruce asked at the same moment.

Carol stared at both of them, then at Fury. "You haven't told them about Mary-Jo?"

"That's on a need-to-know basis, and since we thought she had nothing to do with this after figuring out Wanda Maximoff was there, they didn't need to know."

Carol rolled her eyes. "Her real name is Merzhwoalt. She's a Skrull warrior. Decades ago, she was serving as a security guard on a Skrull ship transporting an experimental weapon, one that was supposed to harness the Power Stone. They hoped it would turn the tide in the war with the Kree. The weapon went critical. Merzhwoalt got everyone off the ship, secured the Power Stone in a casing that could survive any impact, set the ship on a collision course with an uninhabited planet, then launched herself into space in nothing but a vacuum suit. One of the Skrull escape pods found her before she ran out of oxygen. Merzhwoalt was honored for that act of extraordinary courage by being named the official bodyguard of the heir of the Skrull imperial line, Princess Anelle, who was an infant at the time. Years later, when Princess Anelle had a baby of her own, for complicated political reasons she decided it would be safest to send him into hiding with Merzhwoalt while she works on securing a solid truce between the Skrulls and the Kree. I offered to help them settle on Earth, where Fury could provide them cover identities and a safe place to hide out: Westview, Connecticut."

"Damn," Bruce muttered. "The Power Stone? Either it's there, or it will re-exist if Wanda ever crosses paths with this alien warrior. That would mean she would have all but one of the Infinity Stones in her control." He shook his head.

"We need to secure those Stones," Carol stated.

"No kidding," Fury agreed. "Does anyone have any suggestions how to do that?"

No one answered.

Fury nodded. "We'd better figure it out. And in the meantime, we just have to hope Wanda and Mary-Jo never cross paths."


	28. The Crack

Purple—  
The Color of a Sun  
At setting—this and Amber—  
Beryl—and this, at Noon—  
And when at night—Auroran widths  
Fling suddenly on men—  
‘Tis this—and Witchcraft—nature keeps  
A Rank—for Iodine—

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

"What if she doesn't like me?" Wanda asked in almost the exact same cadence as she'd asked 'What if she doesn't like pinot noir?' a minute ago.

Vision smiled gently. "No one dislikes you, Wanda."

"But what if she does?"

"Perhaps she won't like me?" he suggested.

"Everyone like you, Vizh. You're too sweet, considerate, and good looking not to like."

"What a coincidence; I have the same opinion about you."

Wanda stared out the car window for a moment, then looked at the street map in her hands. "Take the next left. What if we don't get along with her?"

"I can't imagine the woman who raised someone as kind, polite, and respectful as Teddy could be otherwise than kind, polite, and respectful herself."

"I don't know. I've known plenty of bad people with good parents and good people with bad parents."

"She has always sounded very nice on the phone," Vision pointed out. Even as he reassured her, he understood why Wanda was nervous. They didn't want to do anything to risk Billy's happiness, which alienating his boyfriend's mother certainly could.

"That's her house up here, with the brick mailbox."

"It's a lovely house," Vision remarked.

"Yeah."

Vision parked in front. They walked toward the door, Wanda carrying the bottle of wine she'd insisted on bringing even though Teddy's mother said they didn't need to bring anything when she'd invited them to dinner.

Wanda rang the doorbell. A moment later, a smartly dressed blond woman opened it. When she smiled at them, a starburst of wrinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes, the only indication that she was old enough to have a teenage son.

"Mr. and Mrs. Shade? It's so nice to finally meet you in person! Come on in."

"Thank you. Please call me Wanda."

"And you may call me Victor," Vision said.

"Mary-Jo," she responded.

Her house, though not large, was stately, spotless, and elegant, bordering on posh. The dining room she led them to had a hardwood floor and matching wall panels and a round table with a lace-rimmed tablecloth, all softly lit by a small crystal chandelier.

"I made coconut curry with tofu for the main course. I hope you don't mind. I'm a vegetarian, so..."

"It sounds delicious," Vision assured her. She seemed to be just as nervous as Wanda was.

"It smells delicious," Wanda added. "My mouth is watering. I know you said we didn't need to bring anything, but we brought some wine. I hope pinot noir is okay?"

"I love pinot noir," Mary-Jo assured her, taking the offered bottle.

They sat down at the table, where Mary-Jo had already laid out spinach and strawberry salads for the appetizer. She poured the wine. "One of the reasons I wanted a chance to sit down with you without the kids here is because I wanted to compliment Billy without embarrassing him. He is easily one of the sweetest, most sensitive, most considerate people I've ever met. He's absolutely enchanting. You must be so proud of him."

"We are," Wanda said. "But I don't know how much credit we can take. We raised Billy and Tommy the same, but they've turned out very different."

"We're not saying Tommy is not sweet, sensitive, or considerate," Vision quickly clarified, "but he is...not as notably so."

Wanda chuckled at such a diplomatic description. While they loved their sons equally, they couldn't deny Tommy was more of a handful. He challenged authority to the point of flippancy, and he liked to see how far he could push boundaries without crossing the line, which had resulted in several trips to the principal's office starting in elementary school. Since he'd gotten his driver's license, he'd delighted in nothing more than borrowing the car and driving it as fast as he could. He'd gotten an after-school job to save up for a car of his own, which had notably improved his sense of responsibility.

"We love Teddy too," Wanda said. "He is such a charming young man. I'm so glad he and Billy found each other."

"Me too," Mary-Jo agreed. "The day Teddy brought Billy home, I took one look at the way they looked at each other and just thought to myself, 'Well, looks like my son's in love'. Made me feel old."

"I know what you mean. Part of me feels like they're too young to be dating, but then I think back to what I was like at sixteen, and I'm really just grateful that Billy has better judgment than I did at his age," Wanda laughed.

"Exactly. They just seem so good for each other. I've never seen Teddy so happy."

"Billy is quite smitten," Vision said, wanting to have something to contribute to the conversation. He'd never been their age, never been to high school, and therefore never had a high school sweetheart, but he knew what falling in love felt like, and he knew that sometimes one's first love could be one's only love, and therefore that the woman across the table could someday be their son's mother-in-law. "Mary-Jo, Teddy tells us that you moved here when he was a baby. Where are you from originally?"

"A little town in northern Missouri. It wasn't a great place to be an unwed mother. When Teddy was born, I scraped together some cash, packed up my car, and went looking for a place I could settle down to raise my son in peace. Someplace welcoming, wholesome, and out of the way. I found a great deal on a little starter house here, and the rest is history."

"We found our way here in much the same way," Vision said. He looked at Wanda to see if she wanted to tell the story of how they ended up in Westview.

Wanda had warmed up while talking about Billy and Teddy, but she looked like she was getting nervous and agitated again, picking at her curry, frowning slightly.

So Vision again changed the subject. "So you are a real estate agent? Do you enjoy that work?"

Mary-Jo smiled. "I love it. I get to help people achieve their dreams, and helping clients find the perfect home for them is like solving a puzzle. I love when I can get to know them well enough to know what they're looking for in a home better than they do."

"Such as?" Vision inquired curiously.

"Such as...empty nesters looking to downsize might not think about that they'll want a house with a lot of storage space relative to living space, which really makes maintenance easier. If a client is wearing a sweater in September, I surmise they might get cold easily, and I'll know to show them houses with low ceilings, which reduces drafts and makes even large houses feel cozy. A new couple looking to start a family might just be thinking about the number of bedrooms they want, and might not realize it will be more important to have a big, level backyard for their kids to run around in."

"I can see how that can be a challenging profession," he noted.

"And you're an English professor, right?"

"I believe it's more accurate to say I'm a literature professor. This year I have been teaching a course on world literature that includes literary works from every continent."

"Every continent except Antarctica, I'm guessing?" Mary-Jo asked teasingly.

"Including Antarctica. That section includes excerpts from journals of Antarctic explorers, poems about Antarctica, and the only novel written by Edgar Allen Poe."

"Really? That sounds like a fascinating course."

"I'm very much enjoying it."

Mary-Jo turned to Wanda, smiling disarmingly. "And Wanda, what do you do?"

She looked startled to be asked. "I sew throw pillows to sell at Main Street Boutique. It's really more a hobby than a job."

"Are they the pillows with the patchwork designs?"

"Yes. You've seen them?"

"I admire them every time I pass that shop. I'll have to go in and buy one next time."

"You don't need to buy one. If you like them I'll make you one. What colors do you like?" Wanda asked.

"Oh, pretty much everything. I like dark blue, teal, dark pink, bright yellow. Things like that."

"And what patterns do you like? Flowers? Animals? Plaid?"

Mary-Jo thought for a moment. "I like spacy things. Stars, moons, planets."

"I think I can find something." Wanda's wavering smile suddenly fell. She stared at Mary-Jo for a moment, then jumped out of her chair.

"Wanda?" Vision asked, alarmed by her behavior.

Wanda waved her hands and a red glow appeared around Mary-Jo.

"Get back!"

The air seemed to crack, slow motion violet lightning spread from a bright point just in front of Mary-Jo. The red glow of Wanda's power gathered around it, corralling it away from other objects.

"What's going on?" Mary-Jo asked, fear in her voice. "Oh my God. Is that... Can't be..."

The purple glow started swirling, pushing back against the sphere Wanda was creating.

Vision didn't know what was going on, but he flew through the table to shield Mary-Jo from it.

There was a brilliant flash, and a shockwave that threw him and Mary-Jo into the wall.

And then it was over.

He looked over his shoulder. The table was broken in half, the food and shards of plates and glasses were scattered across the floor. Wanda was still standing, levitating a red sphere containing a point of violet light between her hands.

"Get her to the hospital. I'll meet you at home. I have to go." She rushed out of the house without explanation.

Vision was torn between going after her or taking care of Mary-Jo. He looked back down at her. She had a split lip and was rubbing the back of her head, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yes. Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, not so much in negation as in befuddlement. "What was that? What happened?"

"I have no idea."

"That wasn't an earthquake. Was it? We've never had an earthquake around here." She spotted her table. "Oh no."

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Altman. We will reimburse you for your table."

"Is Wanda alright? Where did she go?"

"I don't know," Vision answered, honestly, to both questions. "We should get to the hospital, and make sure you are not hurt."

"I'm fine. I don't really like hospitals."

"Few do. But you hit your head, so we should make sure you do not have a concussion."

Mary-Jo reluctantly agreed. "Maybe it was ball lightning. Have you ever seen ball lightning?"

"I have not. I suppose that is possible."

If she believed it was ball lightning, she wouldn't blame Wanda for it. And Vision had no idea what it could have been, so why not call it ball lightning?

* * *

Wanda got home after 2 a.m., so weary she wasn't sure how she was still walking.

It had been the Power Stone. She knew the Infinity Stones well enough by now to know that. She had called on the Reality Stone to create a casing strong enough to contain it, then she had buried it deep at the edge of town, as far away as she could get from the others.

It had been so long since an Infinity Stone manifested, she'd thought they were done. When she felt the universe begin to strain and crack while they were having dinner with Mary-Jo...

The timing could not have been worse.

She couldn't figure out why the Infinity Stones seemed to break through around certain people. That the Mind Stone had been anchored on her made sense, and that the Soul Stone had appeared near Clint, but she didn't know how Jane Foster, that strangely familiar woman with the short blond hair, or Mary-Jo fit in.

"You're home," Vision said, stepping out of the wall.

She turned to him. "Is Mary-Jo alright?"

"She is. The doctor gave her a clean bill of health. I returned her to her home and helped her clean up her dining room."

His voice was impassive, containing no hint of blame or complaint.

"I'm sorry I rushed off like that."

He moved toward her. "Wanda, I have been ill with worry. Not knowing where you were, what happened, if you had been injured..."

"I hate that I made you worry. I didn't have a choice."

"What happened?" he asked her imploringly.

She tried to answer, but her words collapsed as she formed them. There had been a time when she'd sworn to herself she would tell Vision about the Infinity Stones someday, but that had been before Monica Rambeau confronted her, claiming she had created Vision and their children with the Infinity Stones, that she had used them to control the whole town. It was crazy, but part of Wanda wondered if it was true. If she told Vision, would he tell her she had to break her hold on Westview? They were safe and happy here, and if she did find a way to destroy or sever her link with the Infinity Stones, what would happen to them?

Even if nothing bad happened, would he be disappointed in her for keeping such a secret from him for so long?

"I just got so nervous, my powers went wild. I didn't mean to. I'm sure it won't happen again."

He stared at her hard. "That is not what I saw."

Would he ask her to destroy the Infinity Stones?

Would she lose him?

"Wanda," he said, "whatever you are dealing with, whatever you are facing, I wish to face it with you. Any burden you bear, I wish to bear with you."

Even in that moment—even as her heart melted with love for him—she couldn't bring herself to tell him.

"I guess I am just a coward," she said, her words garbled as she choked them out past a lump in her throat.

He suddenly looked distressed that she would think such a thing about herself. "No." He took her hands. "No. Wanda, you are the bravest person I know." He looked into her, searching her eyes. She could see his concern, confusion, and frustration in his face as well as read it from his mind. "I trust you to tell me the truth when you are ready." He lifted one hand to his lips, tenderly kissing her fingers. Then he let her hands slip out of his, and without another word phased through the wall into their bedroom.

Wanda stood in the dark living room, feeling like her heart was breaking. She _was_ a coward; sure, she would risk her life to protect people, would give her life for those she cared about in an instant, but she couldn't bring herself to risk Vision or their children. She couldn't even bring herself to tell Vision the truth out of fear of losing his trust, or even a fraction of his love.

She'd rather die than lose Vision's love, she realized to her horror.


	29. Obscured

Sunset that screens, revels—  
Enhancing what we see  
By menaces of Amethyst  
And Moats of Mystery.

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

Agnes was raking leaves in her front yard when Vision came up to her. "Good afternoon."

"Afternoon," she replied as casually as she could muster.

Ever since Bruce told her Wanda was using Infinity Stones to create her pocket dimension (a few years ago in Westview time, a couple of months ago in the outside world), Agnes had been nervous when talking to Wanda or Vision. Of all the worst-case scenarios she'd speculated about for what the source of Wanda's power could be, the Infinity Stones scared her more. They had taken everyone she loved from her once, and even though Wanda had so far seemed a benevolent and psychologically stable nearly omnipotent overlord, she had in her history joined HYDRA and helped a misanthropic robot try to take over the world, and Agnes couldn't not think about the fact that Wanda could render her nonexistent at a whim.

Once she knew what she was looking for, Agnes had been able to locate the Infinity Stones. The Mind Stone, of course, was hidden in Vision's head. The others were buried deep in the earth in varoius places around town: one under Wanda and Vision's house, one under the house Natasha was living in, one in Old Mill Park, near the center of town, and the newest one at the outskirts on the far side of town.

"Will you be attending the Halloween party at City Hall tomorrow?" Vision inquired.

"I'm planning on it. Why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering."

He looked distracted, like there was something else in his mind.

"Are the boys dressing up for Halloween this year, or do they think they're getting too old for it?" Agnes asked.

"They are. Tommy is going as a NASCAR driver, and Billy as a wizard."

"What about you and Wanda?"

"Wanda has put together a quite fetching sorceress costume. I have just been piecing my costume together from odds and ends. I haven't decided exactly what to say I am. I think I might be some kind of robot."

There was something almost melancholy in the way he said that.

"Is everything okay, Vic?" Agnes asked him.

He looked startled. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

His voice was slightly higher pitched when he answered. He was a truly terrible liar.

"Is everything okay with you and Wanda?"

"I think so," he said uncertainly.

Sounded like there was trouble in paradise. That was a frightening possibility, because if Wanda became unhappy, there was no telling what she might do, or what effects her state of mind might have on the reality she created.

"That doesn't sound good," Agnes said sympathetically. "What happened?"

"Nothing specific. A few weeks ago... For a few weeks now, Wanda has been more solicitous towards me than usual. I feel she is trying to make up for something, or distract me from something."

A few weeks ago was when there was a sudden outpouring of energy indicating the emergence of the fifth Infinity Stone. Did Vision know about it?

"From what?"

"I'm not sure. It has led me to ponder our marriage. Wanda and I never argue. We have discussions when we have divergent aims, but we always come to some agreement or mutually acceptable compromise. We never fight. I used to believe that was because in general we are in accord with each other, but now I am beginning to wonder if the true reason is Wanda has been keeping things from me. Perhaps anything she believes I will disapprove of, she simply hides."

He sounded so forlorn about it.

Agnes shrugged. "You know what they say: if something seems too good to be true, it probably is."

He frowned. "Do you know of anything she has been concealing from me?"

"No, but I know how marriages work. No matter how well you work together, no one is ever going to be a perfect match. Because people are people, not puzzle pieces made for each other. Every person is made for themself, and no one else. You put two people with their own lives, habits, beliefs, and opinions together, and there's going to be friction. There's going to be rough edges. And if you don't see those rough edges, that's either because you're deluding yourself or she's hiding them from you."

"That makes sense. I've never thought about it that way."

Agnes raised an eyebrow. The irony wasn't lost on her that she was giving marriage advice when she hadn't even been able to make her pretend marriage work. "Vic, you've been married for how many years now? Are you really just now figuring out that marriage is hard?"

He didn't answer, but the panic-stricken look on his face indicated that was indeed the case. "What am I to do? I can't force her to tell me something she means to conceal."

"No you can't. You can't just will someone to act how you want them to act, or be what you want them to be. But, you know, from where I'm standing, this looks like a two-way street."

He tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, why are you telling this to me? I know I've got a reputation as a bit of a gossip, so why would you tell _me_ you're worried about your wife keeping secrets from you instead of complaining about it to one of your friends at work? It seems to me like you want Wanda to find out you're hurt and worried about this, but you don't want to risk a confrontation by telling her yourself."

Rather than get defensive, like a normal human would, Vision stood perfectly still in thought for a long moment. "You have a point," he finally said. "Please do not say anything to Wanda."

"I won't," Agnes promised.

She was beginning to think the way to stop Wanda might be through Vision.


	30. Crumbling

I used to have fiery intensity,  
and a flowing sweetness.

The waters were illusion.  
The flames, made of snow.

Was I dreaming then?  
Am I awake now?

~Rumi, trans. Coleman Barks, from _Birdsong_

* * *

Vision looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he tied his cape around his neck. This Halloween he'd chosen a costume that would allow him to be seen with his true face. He wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps he was tired of hiding.

He was in the living room in time to see Wanda descend the stairs in her sorceress ensemble: red leotard, red crown, tights. Even after all these years of marriage, he was still frequently struck by her beauty. Today, the sight of her looking so uncannily beautiful caused him to feel even more lost and conflicted. How was he ever supposed to confront her about her secrets when he couldn't bear the thought of upsetting her?

"You look wonderful," she said to him.

"So do you," he replied, hoping she would misconstrue the tightness in his voice.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Shouldn't you bring a jacket?" he asked.

"It's not too chilly today. And if it's cold on the walk home tonight, you can wrap your cape around me," she added suggestively.

He couldn't help but chuckle and wrap an arm around her.

"Boys, are you ready?" Wanda called.

Tommy and Billy came out of their rooms, both in their costumes. They looked so grown up, Tommy in particular. They were only a couple of years away from graduating high school, after which they would perhaps go off to college. It was bittersweet to be faced with the reminder that their children weren't children anymore.

"You both look amazing!" Billy said.

"Mom, don't you think you're a little old to be dressed like that? It's embarrassing," said Tommy.

"Don't listen to him; I think you look beautiful," Billy argued.

Wanda smiled. "Thank you. Let's get going. We want to get to the party before they run out of doughnuts."

Agnes waved to them from her yard as they passed.

"You going to the party?" Wanda asked.

"In a bit. Your costumes look great!"

It was warm for an autumn evening. All their neighbors seemed to be out and about, heading to the party or getting an early start on trick-or-treating. The twins soon ran ahead to join up with some friends.

"You're being quiet today," Wanda noted.

"I'm sorry. I'm just thinking," Vision said evasively.

"I have always loved how thoughtful you are." When he didn't laugh, she asked, "Is it anything you want to talk about?"

"Not just yet." It was a night to socialize and enjoy themselves; he didn't want to bring down the mood. Besides, if she could keep secrets, so could he.

"Okay." After a minutes, she said, "I think I'm going to dart back home and change into some flats. These shoes are killing me."

"Would you like me to go with you?"

"No. Go on ahead. I'll meet you at the party."

Normally he might have insisted on accompanying her, but Vision didn't mind a few minutes alone to think.

Several people he passed wished him Happy Halloween. Some greeted him by name. Rather, by his alias. Everyone in Westview was always so friendly. Neighbors were always eager to help each other, the twins had never been bullied in school, they had never been made to feel unwelcome in any way. Everything about it seemed perfect.

He kept thinking about what Agnes said yesterday: something that seemed too good to be true probably wasn't true.

"I think something's wrong here," he muttered aloud to himself.

No one had ever asked him why he didn't eat. No one who shook his hand had ever commented on his skin being harder than typical human skin. It was as if they were incapable of noticing anything odd about him.

Suddenly feeling like he needed to get away, he floated up into the air, wondering if anyone would spot him and point him out. No one did.

He flew higher, getting a bird's-eye view of their idyllic town.

There was something there, a layer of some kind of energetic static. He flew through it curiously, trying to figure out what it was.

And then suddenly the sky changed from early evening twilight to star-studded black. The air was colder. All was quiet.

He looked around.

Beyond the edges of town he could see razor-wire fences and floodlights. Beyond those, he saw a car parked on a road in the woods with its headlights on.

He flew closer to investigate. He saw someone in the car, apparently asleep at the wheel.

It was Agnes, wearing the witch costume he'd seen her in a few minutes ago.

He flew to her. The driver's side window was open.

"Agnes?"

She didn't wake up.

He reached toward her to rouse her. Something like electricity zapped from his fingertip to her head.

She jolted awake with a gasp. She stared at him, eyes wild.

"Am I dead?" she asked.

"No," he assured her. "Why would you think that?"

She looked at him pensively. "Because you are."

The way she said that—both authoritative and amazed—convinced him she knew something he didn't.

It terrified him.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you doing here?" She asked him instead of answering. "How did you get out here?"

"I flew," he answered without thinking about it. This all seemed so surreal he was starting to wonder if he was having some kind of nightmare.

"You flew?" she repeated.

He realized how strange that must sound. Agnes didn't know about his powers.

But she just started laughing, like that was the funniest joke she'd heard in years.

"You just _flew_ out? You mean you could have left Westview any time you wanted this whole time?"

"It seems so," he answered. "Can't anyone?"

"Almost no one has been able to enter or leave Westview in over a year," Agnes said.

"But...how did you get out? I saw you only a few minutes ago."

"I've never set foot in Westview in my life, Vision."

"How... How do you know my real name?"

Agnes took a deep breath. "Okay. You must be so confused. You want to know what's really going on in Westview?"

"Yes. Very much," he answered.

"I'm not the best person to answer that. But I know who is." She took out her phone and made a call. "Hey, sorry to call you this late. I mean, this early, but I need to meet up with you right now. You are not going to believe this."

She got out of her car, put her wrists together, and circled her hands in a way that reminded him of Wanda when she worked her powers.

A circle of light appeared in the air in front of her. Through it, Vision could see a room containing what looked to be advanced scientific equipment.

"Come with me," Agnes said as she stepped through it.

Vision did. He was uncertain if it was a good idea, but he _needed_ answers.

The room they emerged in was some kind of lab. Vision was trying to figure out what they could be studying in this room when a door opened. It occurred to him too late that he should perhaps assume his normal human disguise.

But he found himself facing someone just as conspicuous as he was. It was the Hulk, wearing custom made oversized pajamas.

"Oh my God," he said. "Vision?"

"I told you you weren't going to believe it," Agnes said.

"Doctor Banner?" Vision said, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

"You can call me Bruce. How did you get out of Westview?"

"He flew," Agnes answered for him. "Apparently, he can go right through the energy barrier."

"Your appearance has changed since last I saw you," Vision noted.

"Yeah, I found a way to integrate both sides of myself. That's not important right now. Vision, how much do you know about what Wanda is doing?"

He shook his head. The question didn't make sense. "Wanda is not doing anything."

"Do you know how you got to Westview in the first place?" Agnes asked.

He was about to answer with a simple 'Of course', but realized he didn't. It was a long time ago, and he hadn't thought about it for a long time, but he remembered the rainy night when he woke up on the side of a street with Wanda beside him.

"Did Wanda ever tell you?" Bruce asked.

 _'How are you here?'_ That was what Wanda said, mystified, that night.

"She didn't know," Vision answered. "We have never known."

Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How much do you know about Thanos?"

Vision felt as if his memories had been frozen in ice, and now they were coming to him in thin trickles. "He was after the Infinity Stones. He was after me."

"Do you know what happened then?"

He'd died. Wanda had killed him by destroying the Mind Stone. Did she remember that? She must not; such a memory would torment her.

But he was alive. The Mind Stone was right there, in his head.

"No," he answered. "I presume you found a way to stop Thanos?"

"Kind of," Bruce said. "We brought back the people Thanos dusted. But Thanos destroyed the Infinity Stones."

He reached up to his forehead automatically, as if to make sure the energy source that powered him was really there. "I don't understand."

Bruce nodded. "I think you might benefit from seeing what we've been able to figure out so far." He turned on one of his computers, and brought up some kind of isoline model labeled with mathematical functions. "The Infinity Stones emerged from the Big Bang. They were singularities of six different forces that interact to form the universe." He pulled up six different models on the screen, each labeled with similar functions. "Do you see how destroying them might be a problem?"

Vision looked at the models and nodded slowly. "Each acted as an anchor point for one universal force. If this model is correct, removing them would cause those forces to become untethered, becoming increasingly chaotic."

" _Increasingly_ chaotic?" Bruce repeated. He obviously hadn't realized that connotation. "So you think the longer the universe went without the Infinity Stones, the more unbalanced it would become?"

"That is the logical extrapolation," Vision said, waving at the computer screen. Without those anchor points, the laws of physics governing the universe would begin to unravel, with unpredictable but likely apocalyptic results. "But my own existence indicates the Infinity Stones are not permanently gone. Doesn't it?"

"Yeah. That's...kind of what I was trying to get at. The infinity Stones leave their imprint on anything in their proximity. The longer the exposure, the stronger the imprint. Those imprints persisted after the Infinity Stones were destroyed. When objects carrying a strong imprint come close enough to each other, the force manifolds interact."

"That could cause a collapse in the foundation of the universe," Vision realized. "And that collapse...would become a new force singularity. The Infinity Stones would be reborn. Chaos reaching a breaking point, begetting balance."

"That's what's been happening," Bruce explained. "It's a long story, but Westview has become a hub for the Infinity Stones' cosmic imprints." He clicked through a few slides on the computer screen, stopping on an image that showed three focal points surrounded by overlapping ripples coded in different colors: orange, yellow, and violet.

Vision reached out to the computer screen, touching the center of the yellow ripples. "That's how the Mind Stone gave Wanda powers. She resonates with its signature."

"Exactly. And Clint Barton carries the signature of the Soul Stone after having prolonged contact with it during our mission to undue Thanos's snap. When Clint and Wanda went to Westview, they entered the sphere of influence of someone who carried the imprint of the Power Stone, a woman named Mary-Jo Altman."

"Mary-Jo," Vision gasped.

"You know her?" Bruce asked uneasily.

"Yes." Vision sank to the ground, covering his face with his hands. That was what happened the night he and Wanda had dinner with her: what he'd witnessed was the Power Stone breaking through into the universe.

And Wanda had known what it was. She'd known to contain it, created a forcefield around it and hidden it away.

Because she'd done it before.

"Five of the six Infinity Stones are now in Westview," Agnes stated. "Well, I guess right at this moment it's four of the six, since you're here."

"For fifteen months, Westview has been surrounded by a bubble dimension. As near as we can figure, it's being generated by an interaction between the Space Stone and the Reality Stone. Time inside the bubble dimension is passing faster than outside, about one nineteenth the speed of regular time."

"So an hour here is about nineteen hours there," Agnes clarified. "But that's really just my best guess."

Vision stared at the computer screen. "This model suggests the closer in proximity the Infinity Stones are, the more powerful they become. Five on the same planet, much less in the same town, presents an unacceptable risk."

"We completely agree," Bruce said.

The implications were beginning to coalesce in Vision's mind, and they were devastating.

Wanda had been there when the Power Stone emerged.

Wanda had been there when he woke up on the dark street on a rainy night. She had been right there.

"If the Reality Stone and Space Stone are interacting to create a stable sub-dimension," Vision said slowly, "I believe there must be something deliberately facilitating that synthesis."

"Some _one_ ," Bruce replied. "We don't think she's doing it on purpose, but it's Wanda. Since she facilitated each Infinity Stone's re-emergence, she's connected to each of them. She's tapped into their power. The fact that the interdimensional energy field around Westview doesn't weaken when she sleeps indicates her control of it is entirely subconscious."

"Why would she do this?" Vision asked himself.

"It's a protective shell she's built around herself," Bruce speculated. "After everything she's suffered and lost in her life, she's just trying to protect herself."

Agnes shook her head. "Not quite. Even after she had the Soul Stone, the Space Stone, and the Reality Stone, the dimensional barrier didn't go up until after the Mind Stone emerged. She's not doing it to protect _herself..._ " She looked pointedly at Vision. "She's doing it to protect _you._ "

"Me?"

"And now your children."

Vision's head was swirling. "This is what she's been keeping from me, all this time."

Bruce hesitantly added, "We know from battling Thanos that the Reality Stone can be used to alter and even create physical matter. We know Wanda's used it for that."

Agnes added, "She used it to create the house you live in, the college where you work..."

She trailed off, leaving something unspoken dangling in the silence.

It dawned on him. "And me. You believe she created me."

" _Re_ -created you," Bruce corrected. "And Natasha."

He looked at Agnes. "Why did you never tell me this?"

"Would you have believed me?"

Bruce continued his explanation. "We believe Wanda's mind powers are influencing everyone in Westview. She wants them to be nice and happy and not question what's happening, so she's subconsciously making them. Since her control of the Infinity Stones isn't conscious, she wouldn't know how she's doing it, or even realize she's doing it, so even if we could convince her it's in everyone's best interest for her to relinquish that power, she wouldn't be able to. We've developed an anesthetic cocktail that, when injected in a human, temporarily and harmlessly shuts down all but autonomic brainwaves, which would sever her control of the Infinity Stones and should shut off the energy field creating the bubble dimension, but we've had no way to administer it—no way to safely get it inside Westview and get close enough to anesthetize her. Until now."

They meant him, Vision realized. This was why Agnes had brought him here, why she'd told Bruce he could pass through the energy barrier.

"You're asking me to turn against my wife, the mother of my children."

"Not really turn against her. But it's too dangerous for any one person to control the Infinity Stones, no matter who that person is.

"The people of Westview are trapped there. They deserve the freedom to leave, the freedom to remember what's outside their town, the freedom to know what's real," Agnes added.

Vision considered that point. He felt a lump in his throat, and something cold and poisonous in the pit of his stomach.

"If we sever Wanda's connection to the Infinity Stones, what would happen to the things she used the Reality Stone to create? If I do this, will I cease to exist?"

Bruce didn't answer for a long second. "We don't know. We don't know enough about how the Infinity Stones work to be able to answer that."

"What would happen to our children?" Vision wondered. He had thought it miraculous that he and Wanda were able to have children together. Had she used the Reality Stone to bring about their existence as well?

Bruce didn't answer at all. He knew Vision wasn't asking him.


	31. What Remains

In Baalbec there were lovers  
Who plucked the passing flower;  
In Sidon and Palmyra  
Each flushed, immortal hour

Was gathered in the passing;  
In Greece and Rome they knew  
That from the living Present  
The whitest blossoms grew.

The countless generations  
Like autumn leaves go by:  
Love only is eternal,  
Love only does not die…

I hear the dying nations  
Go by on phantom feet—  
But still the rose is fragrant,  
And still a kiss is sweet!

~Harry Kemp, "The Passing Flower"

* * *

The sky switched from the pale golds and grays of sunrise to the dark blue of a rainy evening the moment Vision flew through the energy barrier separating the outside world from Westview.

It had taken him a while to come to terms with the things Bruce and Agnes told him, and then he'd gone with Bruce to talk to Fury. (Agnes had not gone with them. They'd explained, once Vision regained the presence of mind to ask, that Agnes was a sorceress able to astral project beyond the barrier, and that her involvement was a secret to everyone but Bruce.) He had learned to his shock that Wanda had been nonexistent for five years during what they referred to as the Blip, a fact that had caused Vision to experience more anger toward Thanos than his own death. He'd been told the whole story of how the remaining Avengers traveled through time to borrow the Infinity Stones from their places in the timeline to undo the Snap, how after that happened the other Avengers, including Wanda, had joined the fight against Thanos and his forces, how Wanda had nearly killed Thanos herself, how Tony had sacrificed his own life to save them.

The fact that Tony Stark was dead was one other thing Wanda had failed to tell him in all their years together. The news hit him harder than he would have expected.

They had answered all his questions about what he'd missed. They told him about Monica Rambeau, whose mysterious disappearance from Westview a few years ago had been a persistent source of speculation. They answered all his questions about the anesthetic they'd been developing ever since Monica had told them about the Infinity Stones. (It was Fury who mentioned Bruce had been insistent that whatever plan they came up with to stop Wanda had to be nonfatal.) The plan had been for Monica to try to return to Westview, but they had not yet figured out a way for her to get close enough to Wanda to administer the anesthetic without Wanda recognizing her.

Bruce had given him a syringe of the anesthetic, but told him it was his choice whether to use it. If he had any other ideas, they were open to them.

But Fury had made some phone calls to begin preparations, just in case.

Even though he did not feel he'd been gone for long, if time truly went by faster in Westview, he had been gone from it for about two days. Wanda must be so worried.

There was a light on at their home. Vision phased through the roof. The house was quiet, but he soon found Wanda asleep on the couch, her hair drenched with rain, still wearing her jacket and shoes.

He knelt next to her, his eyes fixed on her face. She looked exhausted, with dark rings under her eyes. Was this the first sleep she'd gotten since he disappeared?

"Wanda..." He gently caressed her cheek.

Her eyes blinked open, then flew wide. "Vision?" She stood up and threw her arms around him. "You're alright! I've been so worried about you. Where have you been?"

He held her close, rubbing her back comfortingly, reveling in the feeling of her filling his arms and his heart. "It is a long story. Where are Tommy and Billy?"

"They're staying over at Mary-Jo's house. The whole town's been looking for you."

"I'm sorry I've caused so much trouble."

"Don't be. Everyone will be so happy you're back."

He drew out of their embrace just enough to kiss her. He kissed her for a long time, conscious that it might be for the last time.

He knew her well enough to know she would never willingly relinquish her control of the Infinity Stones if she knew there was even the slightest risk it might destroy him or their children.

And he knew himself well enough to know if he didn't go through with it now, he would never be able to bring himself to stop her.

He broke the kiss to hold her close again. She nuzzled the crook of his neck, and with one hand he stroked the back of her head.

With his other hand, he plunged the syringe of anesthetic into the back of her shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Forgive me," he begged, not letting go of her.

"Vizh?"

He felt her begin to go limp. He lowered her to the couch. If he ceased to exist when she lost consciousness, he didn't want her to fall to the floor and get hurt.

Her eyes locked on him. There was no anger or reproach in them, just fear, and maybe a hint of sadness.

"Forgive me, Wanda," he repeated, choking on his words. "Never doubt how much I love you."

Her eyes—the sorrow and fear in her eyes were for him. She knew.

And then her eyes fell closed.

Vision didn't take his eyes off her face. If he was about to disappear, he wanted her to be the last thing he would ever see.

But when the room suddenly became lighter, he glanced up at the window.

The rainy evening had suddenly transformed into a slightly overcast morning.


	32. Burst Bubble

“Lethe” in my flower,  
Of which they who drink  
In the fadeless orchards  
Hear the bobolink!

Merely flake or petal  
As the Eye beholds  
Jupiter! My father!  
I perceive the rose!

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

Nat had been searching the campus of Westview Community College for any hint of where Vision might have gone. She'd broken into and searched his office, finding nothing, had questioned his friends and colleagues, who all agreed Professor Victor Shade had never mentioned any place he wanted to go, or any reason he'd want to leave.

It made no sense. If he were a normal human, she might have thought he'd met some misfortune on Halloween Night, but he wasn't a normal human, and she couldn't imagine any explanation for his disappearance that wasn't nefarious. She didn't believe for a moment that Vision had left Wanda and their children willingly.

She was walking away from the college under an umbrella at dusk when the sky suddently lightened, and the rain stopped. She stopped and looked up. What could have lit up the sky? A nuke?

She closed her eyes, but when after several seconds neither death nor a deafening explosion came, she opened her eyes and accepted that it was daylight.

Memories were begining to flow. She was supposed to be dead. She'd died on Vormir, had yanked herself out of Clint's grasp and fallen to her death so Clint could go home with the Soul Stone. How the hell had she gotten to Westview?

And how long had she been here? She should have been middle-aged by now.

She started walking with no destination in mind. People were stepping out of their houses to look at the sky. She saw a man she recognized as the father of one of her students sitting on the sidewalk in a daze.

"You okay?" she asked him.

"I don't know. I just realized I haven't seen or spoken to my brother or my parents in years. I haven't left Westview in years."

"I think something weird's going on," Nat said. "I think you should go home until we figure it out."

As she continued, she came upon many similar scenes. Everyone she saw was dazed and confused, like they were waking up from a bizarre dream. Several people she talked to said they or their children hadn't aged in years. One person speculated that they had all been part of some kind of government experiment, another that they had been abducted by aliens. Nat encouraged everyone to go home and wait for official word.

Official word came in the form of armored jeeps driving slowly through town, loudspeakers repeating a message that there was no immediate danger, that the town was in the zone affected by a temporal anomaly, and for everyone to pack supplies and prepare to evacuate in a safe and orderly manner. The jeeps had the acronym S.W.O.R.D. written on their sides.

Nat watched the jeeps pass, wondering if she should stop one to try to get some real answers. 'Temporal anomaly' was so vague as to be practically meaningless, and it didn't really explain why she was there, why she was alive, and why she'd just suddenly rememberer her own death.

Another S.W.O.R.D. jeep passed by down a side street.

"Everyone please return to your homes and pack for a temporary evacuation. You are not in danger, but we need to investigate the area."

That wasn't a recording. That was Bruce's voice.

She sprinted down the block to intercept the jeep.

It came to a stop. The driver's door opened, and Bruce stepped out. Then he just stood there, gaping at her.

She remembered, now, the plan to reverse the Snap, reaching out to him to help. She had been so traumatized by failing to stop Thanos and so obsessed with doing whatever she could to fix it that nothing else had mattered to her, not even him.

That had been so long ago.

"Bruce," she said quietly.

He took a few slow steps toward her, then ran to her and swept her up in a hug.

"Nat," he breathed.

"The things I said after Wakanda...I didn't mean them. I know it wasn't your fault."

"I know. God, Nat. You're alive. You're still here."

"I don't know how I'm alive. I don't remember how I got here from Vormir."

"Wanda has been controlling the Infinity Stones. She used them to bring Vision and you back."

"How did Wanda get the Infinity Stones? Wait, let me guess. Our plan must have worked, or Wanda would still be dust, but then someone changed their mind about returning the Stones to their times?"

"No, we went through with the plan. Thanos still destroyed the Infinity Stones. But it turns out singularities of cosmic forces don't want to stay destroyed. They started popping back into existence around people who had a connection to them. Wanda almost collected them all. She used them to create her own dimension around Westview, kind of by accident."

That made a certain sense: the Infinity Stones were powerful enough that anyone who controlled them might do all sorts of things by accident. That Wanda had accidentally turned a town into exactly what she wanted it to be was entirely plausible.

"Where is Wanda? Is she okay?" Nat asked.

"She's in a medically induced coma. We think it's safest to keep her out of Westview until we can find the Stones. The plan is that, other than Vision's Mind Stone, Carol Danvers is going to transport them one by one to hide in different places around the galaxy."

"That's not a bad plan," Nat said.

Bruce gazed at her. "Nat, I can't even begin to tell you how... Hold on a minute." He touched a button on an earpiece. "Clint, can you hear me? Where are you? Come to...let's see... I'm on Filbert Road, just west of Main Street. There's something here you gotta see." He turned off the comm.

"Clint's here?" Nat asked.

"Yeah. We weren't sure if Vision would be able to come back once the interdimensional barrier was down, so Fury wanted everyone who knew Wanda here in case we had to look for her."

"I'm lost," Nat stated flatly.

Another S.W.O.R.D. jeep drove up. Clint got out of it, staring in disbelieff.

"Tasha?"

"Clint." She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Wanda brought her back, just like Vision," Bruce explained. "Sorry we didn't tell you, but we weren't sure..."

"You knew and you didn't tell me? You just didn't tell me my best friend I watched die was in Westview? You didn't tell me that before you decided to risk destroying the bubble dimension? Remind me to punch you in the face later, Banner." Clint took a deep, shaky breath. "Tasha, you know I am never, ever going to forgive you," he said, still hugging her like he was afraid she'd try to escape.

"That's fine," she said. "I made the right choice, and I'd make it again every time. I owed you my life. Everything good I've ever done with my life is because of you. I was going to get you back to your family. And it worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it worked."

"Then it was worth it."

Clint finally released her. Nat looked from him to Bruce, who had taken a step back to give them some space for their reunion.

They didn't look any older than the last time she'd seen them.

"How long has it been since...since Vormir?" she asked.

"Three years," Clint said.

"That's interesting, because I've been here for...God...sixteen years. I haven't seen you in sixteen years."

"What has it been like?" Clint asked.

Nat thought about it. "It seems super weird now, but it was kind of nice. I settled down, had a normal job, just lived a normal life. I didn't think about my past, about all the innocent people I've killed, or the people I failed to save. I felt like...I believed I deserved to just relax and be happy. Because that's what Wanda believes," she realized.

"What do you believe now?" Bruce asked, and his tone and the way he was looking at her asked more than the words did: he was asking if she was okay, which she hadn't been the five years after Thanos. He was asking what she thought she deserved now.

She was okay, she realized. The years she'd spent in Westview had changed her. Like Wanda had said the day she got there, it gave her time to recuperate, time to heal.

But she was an Avenger, and she wasn't ready to retire yet.

"I believe I needed the vacation, but now I'm ready to get back to work," she answered. "What can I do?"

"We need to find a woman named Mary-Jo Altman," Bruce stated.

"Mary-Jo?"

"You know her?" Clint asked in surprise.

"Yeah. She's my godson's boyfriend's mother."

"Great! Do you know how to get to her house?" Bruce asked.


	33. In a Flash

the lightning...  
yesterday in the east  
today in the west

~Kikaku, from _The Classic Tradition of Haiku_ , ed. Faubion Bowers

* * *

The room brightened so suddenly it made Billy flinch. He blinked several times, then looked out the window to see where the light was coming from.

The sky was as bright as day.

"Weird," he said.

When Teddy didn't respond, Billy turned to him.

He was sitting at his desk, looking toward the window, but with a confused, distressed expression.

"Teddy, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. Billy, have you ever been out of Westview?"

"No. Why?" The sky had just flipped from night to day; why was Teddy worried about something like that?

"Mom and I used to go to New York City on weekends. We used to take a vacation every year. We went to Florida, Hawaii, Montreal, Puerto Rico...but we haven't gone in years. But I wasn't that much younger when we went on vacation. I think the years are messed up."

Billy shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"I used to have a cell phone," Teddy continued, like he couldn't hear him.

"What's a cell phone?"

Teddy looked at him quizzically, then walked to his door. "Hey Mom, you out here?"

Billy followed him into the other room. Mary-Jo sat on the steps, her face resting in her hand. She looked troubled and deep in thought.

"Mom, I used to have a smartphone, right? I'm not making that up?" Teddy asked.

"Yes, honey, you used to have a smartphone," she answered.

"Do you know what's going on?" Billy asked.

"Not exactly."

Tommy came in from the den. "Hey, the sky just got really bright and the TV went to static."

"Tommy, do you feel like you just all of the sudden started being able to remember things you haven't thought about in years?" Teddy asked him.

"No."

"So you don't feel like...this is the wrong year? Like we should have way better technology than we do?"

"No. You sound like you've gone crazy." He looked at Mary-Jo, noticing her pensive reticence. "Are you okay, Ms. Altman?"

"Something's happened," she said. "Billy, Tommy, you're mother got something a few weeks ago. It would have looked like a little round purple light. Do you have any idea what she did with it?"

Billy glanced at Tommy, who looked just as confused as he was.

"We haven't seen anything like that," he answered.

"I need to call her," she said, almost to herself. She went into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialed, and listened.

Teddy went to the window. "It looks like some neighbors came out to look at the sky. Do you guys remember Netfix? Or the internet?"

"The what?" Tommy responded.

Mary-Jo came back in. "There's no answer at your house."

"Our mom's probably still out looking for our dad," Tommy said.

She nodded, and sighed in frustration. "This would be so much easier with cell phones."

"What the _heck_ are cell phones?" Billy demanded. He was starting to feel like he was going crazy.

"What about the Blip? Do you remember the Blip?" Teddy continued.

"What blip?" Tommy asked.

"Half of everyone disappeared for, like, five years. Mom and I didn't. We were lucky. Maybe this is like the Blip."

Mary-Jo, who'd sat down to think again, stood back up. "I need to look for a phone number. Kids, why don't you all go pack your bags; we may need to leave."

"Are we in danger?" Billy asked.

Mary-Jo opened her mouth to give an answer, but didn't right away. The expression on her face started as a reassuring _No_ , then shifted to a _Yes_ , then a clear _I don't know_ , and finally she said, "Probably not, but I want us to be ready, just in case," but her words sounded so hollow a simple _yes_ would have scared him less.

Tommy and Billy didn't have much to pack up, since they'd just brought an overnight bag with a couple of changes of clothes, their pajamas, and their toothbrushes.

As Teddy packed up, he searched in his closet, his drawers, and under his bed. "I used to have a bunch of video games. Where did they go? You really don't remember anything like that?"

"Really," Billy stated.

Someone knocked on the door. They all went into the foyer.

"Should we answer it?" Tommy whispered.

"Tommy? Billy? It's me. Miss Altman? Are you in there?"

"It's Natasha. Do you think she's going crazy too?" Tommy joked. He opened the door, then jumped backward, stumbling. "Holy shit, that guy's green!"

Nat walked in, followed by a very large man with green hair and skin who had to duck to get through the door.

"Oh my God," Teddy said. "Oh my God. That's Hulk! You're the Hulk! I mean, Doctor Banner, you're my favorite Avenger! You're, like, my hero! I used to have some of your books. Hold on. I…" he darted back to his bedroom and returned with his algebra notebook, which had been sitting on his desk and was probably the first signable thing he'd seen. "Can I get your autograph?"

"Sure." The big green guy took it and signed the back. "You Teddy?"

"You know my name? Hulk knows my name! And...Oh my God. Natasha Romanov? You're Black Widow!"

Nat just smirked with her usual aloofness. "Tommy, Billy, this is Bruce Banner. He's an old friend of mine."

Teddy's excited eyes turned to Billy. "I just realized...your mom's Wanda Maximoff. Holy cow, my boyfriend's the son of the Scarlet Witch!"

"And the Vision," Nat added nonchalantly.

"This is the coolest day of my life," Teddy stated.

Billy felt completely lost. He realized he'd never known his mother's maiden name, so maybe it was Maximoff, and he'd realized a long time ago his parents weren't exactly like other people, but it had never occurred to him to wonder about their past. Or that they even had a past.

Bruce Banner looked past them. "Mary-Jo?"

"Yes," she confirmed, seemingly unphased by a large green man in her house and her son acting like he was a movie star.

"Fury sent me. We're going to escort you to a safehouse. Carol's on her way."

"It's the Power Stone, isn't it?" she asked.

"It's more than that. All but one of the Infinity Stones have reappeared in Westview in the past two years. We're evacuating the town until we can secure them."

"Hold on a minute," Tommy said. "Doctor Banner, I'm sure you get this a lot, but...why are you green?"

"Gamma ray accident while trying to recreate the Captain America serum," he replied.

"Who's Captain America?" Billy asked.

"He's the leader of the Avengers," Teddy answered. "At least, he was until the Avengers split over the Sokovia Accords."

"Who are the Avengers?"

"They're the team of heroes who saved New York City from an alien invasion, saved the world from Ultron, and reversed the Blip."

"There was an alien invasion of New York City?" Tommy gasped. "How have I never heard about that?"

"And who or what is Ultron?" Billy asked.

Bruce looked at him. "Oh, wow. This is going to take some explaining."

Nat rested her hand on Bruce's arm to silence him, and addressed Billy and Tommy. "You know, I think your father is the best person to tell you about Ultron."

"Dad's okay?" Tommy asked breathlessly.

Bruce answered. "Yeah. He's at my lab, just outside town. We'll take you too him. He's going to have a lot to tell you."

After they finished packing, they all piled into a large armored jeep. Billy was nervous, but trusted Nat enough to go with her. He thought that Tommy was a little more reluctant, but went along because he didn't want to be left behind.

Bruce explained how the town had been inside a bubble dimension, that over twenty years had passed there while in the rest of the world it had been less than a year and a half.

Mary-Jo seemed pensive but relieved.

Teddy peppered Bruce and Nat with questions about fighting the Chitauri, and about the time Nat helped save the world from an evil organization called HYDRA. When he asked Bruce where he'd been the three years he'd gone missing, and Bruce replied he'd been on a distant planet called Sakaar, and had also gone to Thor's home planet of Asgard, Teddy asked him all about traveling in space.

Billy watched out the window. The familiar buildings of the town he'd spent his whole life in looked different, more somber, almost lifeless. He wondered if that was because they were being evacuated, or because it was daylight but everyone had already gone home from work for the evening, or if it was just because the events of the day had shattered everything he regarded as normal and given. He'd thought things like alien invasions and experiments giving people powers were the stuff of science fiction, but he couldn't _not_ believe it.

After all, he'd always known his own parents had powers other people didn't have. But for some reason, even though he'd known it was a secret, he'd never thought it was weird, never wondered where those powers came from.

He figured, based on Tommy's silence, that similar thoughts were going through his head.

They drove beyond the boundary of the town, something he'd never done before. Shortly beyond the last farm roads, the ground changed: there was a slightly curving line with the yellowed grasses of fall on one side and a foot of snow on the other.

There was a cluster of futuristic buildings set up between the town and high barbwire fences. Had those always been there? Had he lived his whole life in a cage without even knowing it?

Bruce stopped the jeep and they all climbed out. A man in a black trenchcoat and eye patch walked up to them.

"Fury, it's good to see you. For me it's been a very long time," Nat said.

"You too. Great to have you back in one piece. I never want to hear about you pulling a stunt like you did on Vormir again."

"I'm not planning on it," she said.

Fury turned his eye to Tommy and Billy. "These Wanda and Vision's kids?"

Tommy stepped forward before anyone could confirm it. "That's right. I'm Tommy, and this is Billy. I don't know how you know about our parents, but if you don't take us to them right now, there's going to be trouble."

Fury raised his eyebrow. "I like you," he stated. "Your dad should be in there," he pointed to one of the buildings behind him.

Tommy sprinted toward it without another word. Billy ran after him, but couldn't keep up. Tommy tried to open the door, found it locked, and knocked insistently.

The door opened. Their father, his face the undisguised deep red they'd only ever seen him wear in the privacy of their home before, wrapped Tommy in a hug. When Billy reached him, he pulled him into the hug too.

"Dad, where have you been? We looked everywhere for you," Tommy said.

"I found my way here. I was only here for a matter of hours, but in Westview it was days. Come inside. It is cold."

The room was some kind of super high-tech lab. There was a swivel chair turned backward in front of a computer screen showing several overlapping graphs.

"I know this must all be very confusing for you," Vision said.

Billy laughed hollowly. "No kidding. Our dad disappears for days, then the next thing I know, the sun comes out at eight o'clock at night, my boyfriend suddenly gets memories of things that I've never heard of before, Nat walks in with a giant green scientist, and people are talking about my parents like they're superheroes."

"Yeah. Why didn't you ever tell us you were a superhero, dad?" Tommy asked.

Vision gave them a long, melancholy look. "I am no superhero. I'm just a man, a father, and a husband trying to figure out the best thing to do. It's not a matter of simply making the right choice, because every choice has costs and benefits, and we can't ever know all of the effects our choices cause. Furthermore, the choices may benefit some while others bear the costs. I need you to know that, to know that...some stories don't have heroes or villains, only people doing the best they can with the information they have. I have made a choice your mother may never forgive me for. I took a risk she would not take, a risk she would not have wanted me to take. And once you understand what I have risked, you may never forgive me either."

"Is the choice you made the reason the bubble dimension that Westview's been inside for our whole lives just popped?" Tommy asked flippantly.

Vision swallowed, then answered. "Yes. And a choice your mother made is the reason it was there to begin with."

Billy, suddenly too tired to even think, sat down in the swivel chair. "Why would Mom do that?"

"To understand that, you must first know what she has been though in her life, what she has lost. She lost her parents in a bombing when she was ten. Her twin brother, your uncle, was killed by Ultron. And what she endured in HYDRA..."

"That reminds me," Tommy interrupted him. "What is Ultron, and why does Nat think you should be the one to tell us about it?"

"Ultron was a multi-modal artificial intelligence who attempted to eliminate human life from the Earth. And he is...in a sense...your grandfather."

Tommy very slowly slid down to sit on the floor. "Okay... I'm starting to get why we've never been to visit relatives."

Billy wasn't sure how many more shocking revelations he could endure today, but he couldn't stand not knowing. "Dad, I think maybe you should just start at the beginning and tell us everything."

So he did. "When the universe began, the Big Bang forged six points of incalculable power. These became known as the Infinity Stones..."


	34. Disenchantment

The colors, the fragrances as well  
Are dispelled.  
Who in my world  
Is a constant?  
The wilderness of life's vicissitudes—  
I will pass through it today,  
And will not be deceived in shallow dreams  
And will not be inebriated.

~Anonymous, "Iroha"

* * *

Wanda's mind woke up before her body did, trapping her in a pit of her own thoughts.

She remembered everything: all the terrible parts of her past before her life in Westview that she hadn't thought about in years, every weird thing that happened during her time in Westview that she'd ignored, or chosen to forget. It was all so clear now.

Vision had somehow found out what she'd been too afraid to tell him, that she had been using the Infinity Stones. She'd used the Reality Stone to conceive the twins, and Monica Rambeau had believed she used it to bring Vision and Natasha to life. What had happened to Vision, Billy, Tommy, and Nat when she lost connection to the Reality Stone? She couldn't sense them.

She couldn't sense anyone.

If only she'd had the courage to tell Vision the truth about the Infinity Stones when she had the chance, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Would they have been able to figure it out together, to find another way?

Her connection to the Infinity Stones had been such a constant in her life for so long that she felt their absence like a missing limb.

Even before she'd gotten the ability to sense other minds from HYDRA's experiments, she'd always sensed a connection to Pietro. Her mind had never before felt no one else but herself.

She'd never felt so alone.

These thoughts circled through her mind for what felt like hours before she started getting sensations from her body. Something was holding her hands still, her fingers stiff. There was something across her forehead.

Where was she? Why couldn't she sense anyone?

She was under a blanket, but there was a slight draft on her cheek. There was an electronic whirring sound from somewhere to her left.

"Hey, you awake?" a soft voice asked.

She knew that voice, though she hadn't heard it in decades: Sam Wilson.

She forced her eyes open. The room was set up like a hotel room, a general brownish beige color scheme with impersonal furnishings, but it also contained what looked like high-tech medical monitoring equipment. There was a window, showing a gray sky and a light flurry of snow.

Sam was sitting in a chair next to her bed. But he didn't look any older than he had the last time she'd seen him. It made no sense.

"Was it all a dream?" she asked.

"You mean you putting a whole town in a pocket dimension? No, that happened."

Was that what she'd done?

She sat up slowly. Her hands were encased in braces that kept her fingers immobilized, and there was some kind of tight-fitting cap attached to her head with a chin strap.

But she didn't care about those at the moment.

That it hadn't been a dream, and Sam was here at her bedside instead of Vision, led her to one conclusion.

"Vision's gone, isn't he?"

"He went back to Westview to get your kids. He said he'll be back as soon as he can. I gotta say, you're too young to have teenage kids. That weirds me out."

Her heart lit up. "They're alive? Vision and our children are alive?"

Sam looked at her with sympathy. Clearly he hadn't realized she might think they were dead. "I haven't heard if they found your kids yet, but Vision's the one who brought you here. He's fine."

"Thank God."

After a minute of letting the great news wash over her, she looked down at the braces on her hands, wondering what came next.

"They put those on you because they didn't want you to accidentally break anything when you came out of the anesthesia," Sam said. He flipped a couple of buckles and took them off her.

She stretched and wiggled her fingers. "Thank you." She reached up and felt the thing on her head.

"That's something S.H.I.E.L.D. developed to block telepathy," Sam explained. "Some people think...we think your mind powers might've been affecting the thoughts of people around you."

That was the same thing Monica Rambeau had accused her of. "I haven't even tried to get into people's minds since I worked for Ultron."

"No one thinks you were doing it on purpose. I think it was more of a psychic defense; you were working so hard to keep yourself positive that you were broadcasting that same energy to everyone around you. Bucky and I noticed it when we came to visit you, and Clint noticed it when you were staying with him. Bruce figures you being close to the Infinity Stones made that broadcast a whole lot stronger than it should have been."

The cap felt like a mosaic of thin metal plates in plastic and padding. If it was blocking telepathic energy, that explained why she couldn't sense Sam's mind, even though he was right in front of her. And if it was true that she was influencing people's thoughts, it explained why Westview had always been such a kind, accepting place to her and her family; it wasn't that the people were really like that, she was just forcing people to act like that.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't know I was doing it." She tilted her head back, squeezing her eyes closed to keep from crying. "It's like I can't help screwing things up."

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't hurt anyone."

"I'm not sure that's true. There was a woman named Monica Rambeau. She told me what I was doing, but I didn't believe her." She had kept that a secret for so long, but finding out Monica Rambeau had been right, had been telling the truth, made the weight of the guilt suffocating, and it was possible the lingering effects of the anesthesia had lowered her inhibitions, or that she felt Sam was someone she could confide in, but for whatever reason, she couldn't endure keeping the secret any longer. "I hurt her. I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I think I might have killed her."

"You didn't," Sam stated. "Rambeau's alive. You shot her through the interdimensional barrier around Westview, but she survived it. It changed her, like the Mind Stone changed you. She's got powers now."

"But she's okay?"

"Yeah."

Relief of the guilt she'd been suppressing for years washed over her. She burried her face in her hands for a moment.

Sam sat beside her. "I know this is rough. You had a good life, and now you find out your life wasn't exactly what you thought it was, and it's never going to be the same again. But everyone's okay. You'll get through it."

"I was controlling people's minds without even knowing it. How am I supposed to get past that? How can I ever trust myself around people again?"

"We'll figure something out," Sam assured her. "I bet now that you know you were doing it, you'll figure out a way to stop."

She shook her head. "How? How am I supposed to figure that out?"

He didn't have a ready answer.

"How will Vision ever trust me again?"

She wasn't asking him. She was asking herself, or maybe just releasing the question into the universe like a prayer.

"Vision will understand," Sam said.

"I was being selfish, and cowardly. I was too afraid of losing what I had to consider what I was doing. I'm not sure there's anything to understand more than that."

Sam put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "You didn't even know what you were doing. And look at all the great stuff that came out of it. You brought Nat and Vision back to life, you gave thousands of people twenty-something extra years of life, you gave Monica Rambeau superpowers, and you raised two kids."

That finally got Wanda to smile.

"Why don't you tell me about them?" Sam prompted gently. "What are they like?"


	35. Lingering

If along the highroad  
I caught hold of your sleeve,  
Do not hate me;  
Old ways take time to overcome.

If along the highroad  
I caught hold of your hand  
Do not be angry with me;  
Friendship takes time to overcome.

~Anonymous, _Book of Songs_ 81, trans. Arthur Waley

* * *

S.W.O.R.D. had aquired a hotel in a town about ten miles west of Westview to provide lodging for the guards and scientists who worked at the Westview Containment Temporary Command Center. The hotel was nondescript, but the security was serious.

Vision walked in undisguised, hoping it was staffed by the same operatives who had been there when he came with Director Fury earlier.

No one raised an eyebrow when he identified Tommy and Billy as his sons. They were photographed, fingerprinted, and issued access badges before being allowed past the lobby.

At the door to Wanda's room, Vision raised his fist to knock on the door, but hesitated.

Tommy didn't. "Mom, you in there?"

Sam opened the door.

"Who are you?" Billy asked.

"Billy, Tommy, this is our old friend Sam Wilson," Vision explained. "Sam, our twins, Billy and Tommy."

"Nice to meet you," Sam said to them. "I can see the family resemblance. Speaking of which, I'll leave you to your reunion." He stepped out of the way.

Wanda was standing in the center of the room, staring at them like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Mom!" Billy ran to her and almost knocked her over when he wrapped his arms around her.

Tommy smiled brightly at her. "Mom, I never knew you were such a badass. You fought a robot army, fought an alien warlord, and made your own personal dimension. That is seriously punk rock."

She laughed lightly, relief evident in the sound. She wrapped one arm around each of her sons. She kissed the top of Billy's head and leaned her head on Tommy's.

Sam smiled at the scene, clapped Vision on the shoulder, and took his leave.

"Mom, I want you to know I love you no matter what," Billy said.

"Thank you," she said. "It's so good to see you. I love you both so much."

"What's with the weird hat?" Tommy asked.

"It's blocking my brainwaves from reaching out to the Infinity Stones, and from influencing the way other people think," she answered reluctantly.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but it makes you look like a dork," he joked.

She laughed. "I'll see if I can get an upgrade to a more fashionable model."

Vision stayed back, merely watching. Seeing Wanda's happiness at being reunited with the children she thought she'd lost warmed his heart, but the knowledge he was the one who took the risk that might have caused her to lose them chilled him to the bones.

Finally, Tommy said. "Well, Mom, it's been a long, weird day and I gotta get to bed. Can you believe they gave us our own hotel room? I've never stayed in a hotel before. Have you?"

"Yeah, a few," she laughed.

Billy gave her a parting hug. "We'll see you in the morning, Mom."

"Sleep well," she replied, barely concealing her sorrow at having to be away from them again.

They left. Billy closed the door behind him.

Leaving Vision and Wanda alone together.

They stood in silence, looking at each other.

Vision had no idea what he could say. He had literally and figuratively stabbed her in the back, risking the end of all she held most dear in the world.

"I understand if you can't forgive me," he finally brought himself to say. "If you hate me, if you wish to never see me again, I understand. I didn't know what else to do." His voice trembled and sputtered to a dry whisper as he tried to get the words out. "I just didn't know what else to do."

Wanda shook her head. "Vision, you're alive. Billy and Tommy are alive. That's all that matters to me. I don't care if they lock me up for the rest of my life."

"They will not!" he vowed. "I will not let them."

She looked startled at his outburst, and maybe a little hopeful. "You still care about me? After everything? After I lied to you?"

He'd believed she might hate him now, but the fact that she'd feared the same about him was worse. His heart felt like it was dangling over an abyss. He floated to her, unable to stand the distance a moment longer. "Wanda, of course I still care for you. Nothing could change that. You gave me your friendship, your companionship, your love, and two wonderful children. How could I not care about you?"

She looked down at their hands. He followed her eyes. Without realizing it, Vision had taken her hand. He wondered if he should let go, if holding her hand was too presumptuous. After all, even if she didn't hate him, she might still be angry with him after what he had done.

But she made no effort to pull away, and he couldn't bring himself to let go. His thumb brushed over her wedding ring.

"A good marriage needs trust and communication," Wanda said, "and I failed you in that. If you...don't want me anymore, I understand."

"My love for you has not changed," he assured her.

"How can you be so sure? It seems that my thoughts, my attitudes, and my wishes have been affecting the minds of the people around me. Maybe...it's possible when you thought you loved me, you were just reflecting what I feel for you, the whole time."

These words stunned him. She could believe it was possible that he never truly loved her? Such a belief revealed so much fear, guilt, and insecurity, a manifestation of the experiences in her life that had more than once taught her everything she relied on and believed in could be torn away in an instant. He felt helpless in the face of that much fear.

With the hand that wasn't holding hers, he reached up to the tight helmet fixed over her head. "This is preventing you from influencing the thoughts of others?"

"Yes," she answered. "I can't even read you right now."

"Then there is no way my thoughts are currently under the influence of yours. My mind is perfectly clear. And what my mind is telling me is that you are the love of my life."

He kept his eyes fixed on hers, willing her to accept the truth. When fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, he wiped them away.

"Is the helmet uncomfortable?" he asked. "It looks uncomfortable."

"It's okay," she said. "The chin strap's a little tight."

The chin strap was bolted on, making it impossible for her to remove or adjust it herself. Vision ran his fingers beneath it and, carefully so as not to hurt her, broke it. He placed his hands on the sides of the helmet and began to lift it off.

Wanda's hands shot up to grasp his, stopping him. "Don't. I can't risk it. I don't know how to control it."

He stared at her. He knew how frightening it was to have strength and powers you didn't understand, to fear what could happen if you lost control of them. Wanda was even more powerful, her abilities even more unpredictable. He wished he could help her. He wished he could make everything better for her.

Her eyes stayed fixed on him like he was an anchor in a storm. Her hands still covered his.

He kissed her, so abruptly he almost surprised himself. If she couldn't read him to feel from his mind how much he loved her, perhaps he could convey it through touch.

To his immeasurable relief, she kissed him back.


	36. Affirming Flame

Defenceless under the night  
Our world in stupor lies;  
Yet, dotted everywhere,  
Ironic points of light  
Flash out wherever the Just  
Exchange their messages:  
May I, composed like them  
Of Eros and of dust,  
Beleaguered by the same  
Negation and despair,  
Show an affirming flame.

~W. H. Auden, from “September 1, 1939”

* * *

Bruce and Darcy were in the latter's lab sketching diagrams on a whiteboard while Jane Foster sat at a computer looking up pertinent metrics and functions.

"Can I just say how much I've missed computers?" Jane said.

"How could you miss them when you forgot they existed?" Darcy quipped.

"My subconscious mind never forgot them. I've had so many dreams about laptops over the last twenty years."

Bruce chuckled. "It's amazing you figured all this out by yourself without even a modern astrophysics graphing program."

"I had a lot of time on my hands."

"Did you date anyone while you were in Westview?" Darcy asked teasingly.

"None of your business. I'll tell you later."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Anyway," Jane continued, "I didn't figure it _all_ out. I didn't see that the lack of the Infinity Stones would cause increasing cosmic instability, and I didn't figure out anything about how they could interact through a nexus point once they existed again."

Bruce nodded. "I can't think of anyone other than Wanda who could have served as that nexus point. It seems like it would have to be someone who was already imprinted with the manifold signature of at least one Infinity Stone, and I really think it was her psychic ability that was facilitating the connection."

"Hey, is anyone else worried what could happen to time if the Time Stone isn't brought back into existence?" Darcy asked.

Bruce glanced over his shoulder at her, trying to look like he hadn't already been thinking about a solution to that. "Yeah, that's definitely a concern." He spotted Nat in the back of the room. "Nat? How long have you been here?"

Jane and Darcy looked toward her in surprise.

Nat smiled. "A few minutes. I was enjoying listening to the three of you nerd out."

"You could have jumped in," Jane said. "I remember how knowledgeable you are about physics from that Fourth of July party at the park."

She shrugged. "I know a lot about explosives, not so much astrophysics, or quantum physics, or string theory, or whatever else this is."

"It's a little bit of everything. There's still so much we have to figure out about how Wanda was able to control the Infinity Stones, and how they interacted to create the bubble dimension," Bruce explained. "There's some neuroscience and psychology thrown in there."

Nat nodded. "Hey Bruce, can I borrow you for a minute?"

"Of course. I was just about to call it a day anyway. If that's okay?" he asked Jane and Darcy.

"Of course. See you tomorrow, Dr. Banner," Jane said.

He followed Nat outside. "I haven't seen you all day. You been busy?"

"Helping with the evacuation," she said. "I've been locating people, getting people in touch with family members and neighbors, acting as a liaison between S.W.O.R.D. and the city council, convincing a few hold-outs to leave their houses. Apparently I'm a pillar of the community."

"Sounds like important work."

"Not quite figuring out the science behind what happened, but I feel like I'm doing my part. Do you know anything about what S.W.O.R.D. plans to do with Wanda?"

"I haven't heard."

"So you helped them bring her in without assurances that she wouldn't be locked up?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure they wouldn't do that. She didn't mean to do anything wrong."

Nat looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Listen, Wanda's the reason I'm alive right now. I owe her. And I'm going to make sure nothing happens to her. I don't fully trust S.W.O.R.D. not to do something drastic, and I'm thinking I might help her and her family make a getaway. Unless I have reason to believe there's something else in the works?"

It startled him, the reminder that Nat was a master spy who could spot a lie a mile away.

She noticed his response. "When Dr. Lewis mentioned the Time Stone, you were just pretending to be worried. There's more going on than you've been letting on."

He sighed. "It's complicated," he explained just above a whisper. "There's more going on here than Fury knows about. I'll explain it to you later, but right now, right here, I'm going to ask you to just trust me, and hold off on trying to help Wanda escape for a few days. It might not be necessary."

She looked at him smuggly. "Okay, but you're going to tell me your whole side of the story later. Maybe over dinner?"

"Over...over dinner?" he repeated.

"Yeah. You know any good places to eat around here, Banner?"

He couldn't quite bring himself to believe she was actually asking him on a date, that after all this time, even after he'd turned himself permanently big and green, she was still interested in him.

"Unless you have other plans?" she added when he didn't answer.

"No. Dinner would be great. I haven't bought anyone dinner in a long time."

"Who said I was letting you buy?"

"Well, from what I've heard about the economy in Westview, inflation is a few decades behind the rest of the U.S., so I'm not sure how far your money will go here."

"How do you know so much about Westview?" she asked in a teasingly suspicious tone.

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner," he promised. "But not tonight. I need to go see some people about a Time Stone."

* * *

Wanda looked up when she heard a knock on the door of her hotel room. She looked questioningly at Vision, who rose and went to the door.

"Who is there?" he asked.

"It's just me," Bruce answered.

Vision opened the door.

Wanda hadn't seen Bruce since Tony's funeral, and before that their few interactions had been not entirely positive. She was nervous at his presence.

"Good evening, Doctor Banner," Vision said.

"Good evening Vision, Wanda. Where are your kids?"

"They're down at the swimming pool," Wanda answered.

"That's nice."

"What can we do for you?" Vision inquired.

"I actually just need to have a word with Wanda for a minute."

"You can talk to me in front of Vision," Wanda said.

Vision had insisted he would stay with her every moment until they found out what S.W.O.R.D. intended to do with her.

"Okay." Bruce opened his laptop and started setting it up on the table. "I don't know if Vision told you, but all our calculations indicate the destruction of the Infinity Stones led to an instability in the universe that ultimately led to points in space collapsing back into the Infinity Stones. Matter that had close extended contact with the Infinity Stones got imprinted with their energy, and when three or more were close together it increased that instability beyond a certain threshold. That's why the Infinity Stones popped back into existence around you. It's not that you were causing it, just that you brought the imprint of the Mind Stone into contact with people imprinted by other Infinity Stones. That's why you got the Soul Stone from Clint, the Space Stone from Carol Danvers, and the Reality Stone from Jane Foster. I'm guessing the Mind Stone manifested when you used the Reality Stone to recreate Vision?"

"No. The Mind Stone was centered on me when it started to break through into the universe," Wanda said. "I used energy from the other Infinity Stones to try to contain it, and it just...turned into Vision. I think that's the form the Mind Stone wanted to be in. I can't explain it better than that."

"Oh. Interesting," Bruce said. He frowned, then seemed to set that thought aside for later. "And then the Power Stone emerged..."

"When Wanda came in contact with Mary-Jo. But why?" Vision asked, a question that seemed to have been troubling him for a while. "When could Mary-Jo have had contact with the Power Stone?"

"That's a...interesting story," Bruce said, "which is unfortunately very, very classified, and I think she should have the chance to tell you herself. I will tell you she was hiding out in Westview, that Fury installed her in the safehouse there, and that's kind of what started this whole thing."

"Are she and Teddy in any danger?" Vision asked.

"I don't think so, but again you should talk to her about it herself. Right now we need to worry about the last Infinity Stone, the one that hasn't come back into existence."

He brought up a teleconference window on his computer screen and dialed someone. Wanda waited nervously and curiously.

Doctor Strange appeared on the screen.

"Strange?" Wanda said in surprise.

"Nice to see you again, Wanda. We need to talk."

"Who is this?" Vision asked.

"This is Doctor Strange. It was his plan that let us defeat Thanos," Wanda explained.

"Ah yes. Doctor Banner told us about you. I presume Agnes was working for you?"

Wanda looked sharply at Vision. "Agnes?"

"That's right," Strange confirmed. "I've been keeping a close eye on your situation. Wanda, I have a favor to ask you."

"The Time Stone," she guessed. "If you and I meet up, you would get the Time Stone back."

"Yes. But there's something more than that. Let me cut to the chase. Ms. Maximoff, right now there's a being of unfathomable power plotting to destroy our world. It's called Dormammu. I was able to turn him back once before using the Time Stone. This time he has brought an army of demons. They're preparing to invade our dimension. But we've discovered those demons aren't following him of their own free will; they're being mind controlled. With your powers, I believe you would be able to break that mind control, free them, and stop Dormammu."

She could barely breathe. What he was saying sounded too huge, too terrifying. "I...I don't know how. I can't control the way I alter people's minds."

"Of course you can't control it; you haven't practiced it. I can train you, help you master your psychic powers. Once you learn how to do it on purpose, you'll also be able to choose not to do it. You won't need to wear that thing on your head anymore."

That was tempting. She hated the thought of controlling other people's minds. She wished more than anything that she could choose when to turn it on and turn it off.

But she wasn't sure she could.

"I won't lie to you, it will be incredibly dangerous," Strange continued. "But if Dormammu gets here, he will destroy everything and everyone on Earth. This time, you may be the only one who can stop him."

Vision put his hand on her shoulder. He locked eyes with her, silently begging her not to go.

He would risk his own life to save the world in a heartbeat, but not hers.

She looked back at Doctor Strange. "Can I have some time to discuss this with my family?"

He looked at his watch. "In three hours, midnight in your time zone, I'm going to open a portal connecting your hotel room to Westview. You'll step through that portal. The minute we meet in a place brimming with the signatures of the Infinity Stones, the Time Stone will come back into existence. If you're willing to help me save the world, we'll leave from there to Kamar-Taj to begin your training. You're family can come stay at Kamar-Taj if they want, but if Dormammu comes to Earth, that will probably be the first place he destroys. Not that anywhere else will be all that much safer. Whatever you decide, I'll see you at midnight."

He hung up.

Bruce closed his laptop. He seemed shaken by what he'd just heard. "That's the message I came here to give you. Agnes is a sorceress; she's been investigating Westview and reporting to Doctor Strange since the beginning. Fury doesn't know they've been involved. No one did but me. If you accept Doctor Strange's offer, I won't tell S.W.O.R.D. where you've gone. It will be like you just disappeared. If you decide not to take his offer, Nat is planning to help you go into hiding, and I'd help her if it comes to that. It's up to you."

"Thank you," Wanda said, surprised that Bruce Banner was willing to help her escape.

"I'd better go. I'm sure you've got a lot to talk about."

The moment Bruce left, Vision turned to her. "I don't want you to go," he stated.

"I have to. If the world's in danger, I have to do what I can to help. Besides, I owe Doctor Strange."

"It sounds incredibly dangerous. You might not...you might not come back."

She reached for him, placing her hand on his cheek. "You were willing to sacrifice your life to stop Thanos. This isn't that different. The thing is, as much as we might wish we were normal people who can just live normal, quiet lives, we're not. The powers we have...give us a responsibility to use them to help. It's different for you because you never asked for your powers; you were created with them. Pietro and I risked our lives volunteering for HYDRA's experiments because we wanted the power to make a difference in the world. And, yeah, at first we were completely wrong about what we should use our powers for, and who we should use them against, but the fact remains I did ask for them." She sighed. "I have to do this, for a lot of reasons."

"Then I will come with you. I will help you fight this Dormammu."

"No," she said apologetically. "One of us needs to stay safe, for our children. I think this is something I have to do alone."

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them, looking at her with both sorrow and acceptance. He kissed her hand, then kissed her forehead, then her lips, then rested his forehead against hers. "Then you should get ready. And say goodbye."

* * *

They found Billy and Tommy in their hotel room watching an action movie.

"I can't believe how much we've been missing," Tommy told them.

Billy noticed the expression on his parents' faces and paused the movie. "What's wrong?"

Wanda slowly walked in and sat down on his bed. "I'm going to be going away for a while," she said.

"Are they arresting you?" Tommy asked. "I'd think you could just break out of prison."

"They have a special prison for people like me," she told him. "I wasn't able to break out of it before. Not on my own, anyway."

Tommy's eyes widened. "You've been in lock-up? On top of everything else, my mom's also a jailbird? That's one part of your story Dad didn't tell us."

"Tommy, being a criminal doesn't make someone cool," she patiently explained to him. "Anyway, no, I'm not being arrested. I'm going to a place where I can learn to control my powers better. Hopefully I won't be gone too long. But while I'm gone, I'm going to need you to help your father. The three of you will need to be a team now. Can you do that for me?"

Billy hugged her. "Of course, Mom. I'm going to miss you."

Tommy was frowning. "So you're going to just turn our lives upside down and then bug out, huh Mom?"

They had always been like this, Vision realized: when hurt, Billy would reach out for comfort, and Tommy would lash out.

"She is not leaving by choice," Vision said. "She would never choose to leave us, for any length of time. But your mother is a hero, and heroes can't choose to not do something when they are needed. That is what makes them heroes."

Tommy nodded. He scrunched his face fighting back tears, but lost the battle. For a moment, he looked like he was trying to decide between hugging Wanda or shoving her, but went with the former, clutching her shirt and sobbing on her shoulder while she stroked his head.

Wanda held her own tears until they left the twins' room, and even then her tears were silent. Vision put his arm around her as they walked down the hallway to their own room.

Wanda didn't have much to pack: Vision had brought her a duffel bag of clothes and a few personal items from their house, and the few things she'd taken out she tucked back in with the efficiency and judiciousness of an experienced traveler.

In silence.

Vision didn't speak either. He'd already told her he didn't want her to go, but he understood why she had to. He didn't know if he could say anything else with the lump in his throat.

When she ran out of things to pack, she turned to him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I..." He wasn't sure whether to accept her apology or assure her it was unnecessary. He wanted to tell her he had faith that she would complete her mission and return safely, but he wasn't sure if that was true. He swallowed. "Wanda, what you said earlier, that we do not have the option to live normal, quiet lives... The fact is, we did. We had over twenty years together, twenty years to be ordinary, to be happy. That is more than many people get. You made that possible for us. It may be over now, but we had it, and I am forever grateful to you for that."

She wrapped her arms around him. "You're the love of my life too, you know."

At first he only kissed the top of her head, but then she kissed his cheek, then he kissed her lips, then she kissed his neck, and he noted they still had over an hour before her appointment with Doctor Strange.

They made love with an odd blend of deliberation and desperation, both knowing without wanting to acknowledge that it might be their last time. After they dressed, they lay on the bed together, holding each other, until the glowing numbers on the bedside alarm clock flicked to 12:00 and, seconds later, a glowing gold portal appeared in the room.

"That's my cue," Wanda said quietly.

She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and started walking slowly toward it. She stopped before stepping through and turned to look at him.

He took her hand.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you," he replied.

He let her fingers slide out of his. She stepped through the portal. It closed behind her.

* * *

With yesterday's snow, Westview finally joined the rest of New England in winter.

The only footprints visible in the fresh snow in this part of town were the ones Fury, Carol, and Mary-Jo left behind them.

"So Wanda Maximoff just disappeared in the middle of the night without telling anyone where she was going?" Carol asked incredulously, apropos of Fury telling them that S.W.O.R.D. would be drilling down to recover the Infinity Stones at four locations Wanda had indicated in a note she'd left behind.

"That's what her husband and kids tell me, and I have no reason to doubt their honesty," Fury replied in a lightly facetious tone. "To tell you the truth, other than Wanda going to work for S.W.O.R.D., this might be the best outcome we could've hoped for. It saves a lot of people some inconvenient questions."

"Her poor kids," Mary-Jo said. "They've never known any reality other than Wanda's Westview, and now they've lost that and their mother."

"I have a feeling they'll be just fine. How's your son holding up?"

Mary-Jo smiled. "He's actually excited. He wants to take Billy to see New York City." After a moment, she added solemnly, "I've decided it's time to tell him who he really is. Not right now, while we're still adjusting to being reunited with the real world, but soon. He was starting to figure out he's not like most people before the bubble dimension happened. That gave me a reprieve on that particular conversation, but he needs to know the truth. He's going to need to know about the tough choices he may be asked to make someday."

"You want me there when you tell him?" Carol asked. "It might be less of a shock coming from someone other than the person he always thought was his biological mother."

"Maybe," she said. "This is it."

They stopped in front of the safehouse where Mary-Jo and Teddy had lived when they first got to Westview, years ago, where Wanda had lived when Clint brought her there to hide out, and where Natasha had been living since her resurrection. This was where Wanda's note indicated the Soul Stone was buried.

"Think Romanov knows anything about where Wanda went?" Carol wondered.

"Wouldn't surprise me. They're a team, and a team protects each other." Fury sounded slightly distracted.

She noticed. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'd been hoping once we figured out the Westview situation that I could get what's left of the old team back together: Romanov, Banner, Wilson, Maximoff, Vision...maybe throw in Bucky Barnes for good measure. But that might be thinking too small. What Rambeau is learning to do with her powers could beat any one of them. Clint Barton tells me he's got a protégée just about ready to take up his mantle. Wanda and Vision's kids—I got a feeling we can expect great things from them. I'd be interested to know what _your_ son's capable of," he said in aside to Mary-Jo. "And here we've got a whole town of people who've been living on top of Infinity Stones for two decades. Who knows what that's done to them. Not to mention a bunch of teens who've been trained by Black Widow for years. I think it's time to start looking for the next generation of heroes, and I think right here," he looked around at the quiet, snowclad residential street, "is the place to start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> I met my goal of finishing my WandaVision fic before the series came out—barely.
> 
> Sorry this isn't the unambiguously happy ending some of you were hoping for, but I wanted to set the stage for Doctor Strange 2 and hint at the New Avengers.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
